One-Shot Fiction: Inconstant Moon
by Nabiki GMYW
Summary: When one thing leads to another, Xanatos finds himself between the rock and the hard place as Owen …forgets… about Puck. Somehow, 'oops' doesn't cover it.


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Inconstant Moon

By: Nabiki GMYW

Brief summary: When one thing leads to another, Xanatos finds himself between the rock and the hard place as Owen …forgets… about Puck. Somehow, 'oops' doesn't cover it. 

Disclaimer: Gargoyles and all characters related belong to Disney, everyone else is mine. I don't do this for any kind of profit. But if you feel like sending me money, send those donations at [paganj@caribe.net][1] ! So…ok… you _don't_ want to send me money… the least you could do is send me comments. Pretty please?

Notes on the 2001 edition: This is actually a new edition of a story I posted some time ago in the Gargoyles Fanfic Archives. It's reedited, re-cut, and with a different ending …although different is too strong a word. Let me put it this way: it's a new take on the conflict. If the old story took on the psychological aspects, this one is going to take on the facts. Sure, some things will invariably change in the characters' actions, but the plot won't change. In other words, if you're looking for a straight answer, well, dammit, I won't give it to you.

__

A man said to the universe:**   
**_"Sir, I exist!"_**   
**_"However," replied the universe,_**   
**_"That fact has not created in me_**  
**_A sense of obligation."_

— Stephen Cane

__

A soul in a state of ecstasy **  
**_has the power to transcend_**  
**_all finite limitations._

— Neo-Platonic doctrine

PROLOGUE**  
**_~ Swear not ~_

It was an unusually quiet night in Manhattan. It seemed like a usual way to start a night, if it weren't for the fact that gargoyles lived there. The awful Hunter's Moon happened a long time ago and any great disaster concerning gargoyles and the fate of the world seemed years away.

Yet David Xanatos laid aghast inside a crumpled Ferrari crashed into a lamppost, near unconsciousness, wondering to himself what the hell was going on.

His head was spinning, and it took him awhile to realize he wasn't dead yet. For a moment, he thought he had lost an arm, but then he realized it was just broken when the pain started to get to him. Jolly.

He tried to move, and couldn't. The car was hit by the driver's side so he was completely immobilized by the lamppost blocking the door.

He just stared up to the sky, wondering how he'd get out of this one. Then he noticed something peculiar. Tonight the moon was in a quart. He shook his head, wondering if he was seeing wrong, but the moon was, in fact, a big banana.

"It does change phases. What'd you know…" he said, somewhat lightly, to them mumble in a more melancholic tone, "I shouldn't have sworn upon the moon…"

CHAPTER ONE**  
**_~ Value of the unforeseen ~_

Some time before, the moon floated in the sky, not bothering anyone.

It was unusually clear, and David Xanatos could see the full moon stare back at him. Somehow, the moon never really changed its phase since the gargoyles woke up. It was the only constant thing he could find in a place where things changed so quickly. 

One year ago, he was the sworn enemy of the gargoyles, now he was their protector.

It was one of those things one never noticed except on very special occasions. Life's funny that way. Now, everything was perfect. Just one of those things.

But as romantic as he felt tonight, he couldn't understand what was the big deal with those crystal figurines Fox had bought today.

"Aren't they the cutest lil things you ever saw?" she asked and she placed them on a stand in the main hall.

"You were late because of those dolls?" he asked. "It's near midnight and you were out playing with Barbies?"

"This is a precious piece of art!" Fox retorted. "They are Lillie and Pierre."

"Right…" Xanatos muttered, indifferent.

"Guys," she continued, "this is my husband, David."

"Jeez, Fox, don't talk to them. You sound nuts," he commented. "I hope they make it in a castle full of gargoyles."

The stumping and laughing of a quartet of gargoyles coming their way interrupted him. "Speak of the devil…" Xanatos mumbled to himself. He turned to the four young gargoyles ---Broadway, Angela, Brooklyn and Lexington--- and said, "What's the big deal?"

"We've had the most wonderful mugging today!" Angela said, then quickly amended, "I don't mean it like that. All muggings are wrong, you know that, I know that, what I mean is--"

"We got thanked!" Broadway interjected.

Xanatos arched an eyebrow and said, "Really?"

"A mom with her little girl." Lexington continued, "Some guys tried to mug her. We beat them up and they ran away. The mom thanked us…"

"Right before she ran away too." Brooklyn commented. "But it means 'something', right?"

"I would guess so." Xanatos admitted.

"Hey, what's this?" the millionaire heard Angela say to Fox, who placed the glass representations of 'Pierre' and 'Lillie' on a nearby stand.

"Oh, I bought them on this cute shop on the West Side, 'Genie in a Bottle'. Very weird place, mind you." Fox answered and added with an incredulous chuckle. "He sells figurines and _bottles_. Can you believe that? He sells _bottles_."

"Why is that?" Broadway questioned.

" 'Cause he's a weirdo, just like us." Brooklyn jested. "Come on. Goliath is expecting us to bring a report."

He spun around quickly, so quickly, his tail bumped on the stand where Pierre & Lillie were. Like some sort of slow motion scene, Fox yelled, "Nooo!" as they fell and fell and fell…

…and were ultimately caught by Xanatos…

"Close call…" He said, "Now, be careful. We all remember the late Ming vase."

"You still remember that one?" Broadway asked.

"It's hard to forget a $10,000 dollars investment." Xanatos replied calmly.

"Break them, and I'll repossess your teeth." Fox added quickly.

The quartet shot her a look and Xanatos said, "Now, now. Be nice. They're just figures. They're rather dumb-looking too." He said, imitating Pierre, "Wanna go out Friday night?" --- "Sure do!" he replied to himself in a high falsetto voice. "I'm a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world…!"

The young gargoyles gave chuckles as Fox barked, "Quit making a fool of yourself!"

He grabbed the figurines, but he grabbed them by Pierre's arm, which immediately snapped.

The gargoyles laughed even harder as Brooklyn commented, "Go ahead Fox. Repossess his teeth! You know you want to!"

"How could you!" Fox cried indignated. "Now he looks like the Fugitive! What am I going to do with you?" 

Xanatos gave his best dashing smile and said, "Forgive and forget?"

"Sleep on the couch?" Broadway added.

"Cook him in oil?" Lexington commented.

"Beat him up? I'd pay to see that…" Brooklyn interjected.

Xanatos gave them dark looks and said, "If you don't have anything good to say, _don't say anything_."

Alas, the last thing she did was forgive and forget. Three days later, the couch was killing his back. _That's what I get for playing with Barbies…_

* * *

The first thing that got to him was the name. A sign was hanged in the shop's entrance, and 'Genie in a bottle' was written with pink, Arabic letters. The second thing that got him was that he'd never seen the shop before. The last time he checked there was a bakery there.

He only needed an excuse to go inside, and that was that Fox kept whining about her figurines. And, boy, did she kept complaining about it, claiming that they survived a trip from England only to die at the hands of Xanatos. So, like a dog with no illusions, he went to the little shop where Fox had bought them, in hopes for a peace offering.

And there he was, in that odd little shop.

It was the oddest thing he had seen in awhile, considering that in his line of work, the unusual was the rule.

When he entered; the windpipes in the door chimed loudly. It was just like Fox had described it. It was a quaint little store dressed in extravagant taste, though he had to admit there was a homely feeling to it. One wall was dressed completely with shelves full of glass figurines, with different shapes, colors and sizes. The other wall was full of strange bottles. 

Bottles. Why the hell would anyone want bottles?

There were many ships in bottles, but most of the bottles were empty. They had strange designs and odd curves, and though interesting, he didn't know who would want to buy them.

He dismissed them with a shrug and stared at the figurines. "Cute…" he said as he gazed upon a little glass bear balancing a ball on his nose. Next to it, there was a little cat playing with a ball of yarn made up of yellowish looking glass. What surprised him most was the detail. All the figurines were so detailed; it must have taken a lifetime to construct. "Any of these would look great in the living room…"

"Well, I'm glad you like it." a voice casually commented from behind the front desk. He turned around to see an old man, somewhere in his fifties, with graying hair on top, and a few extra pounds at the sides. 

The first thing he noticed was that he had an accent, but he couldn't tell from where. He could've been from anywhere, anytime. The old man smiled pleasantly. "Oh, I love customers!"

Xanatos smiled and replied, "How much is this?" as he pointed at a ballerina tying her shoes.

"Suzie? She's twenty. She comes with her little friend," he pointed to another ballerina, dancing, "Maria."

"Twenty for two figurines of this craftsmanship? Sounds cheap."

"Cheap? Some people would call it rip-off," the old man replied, "But they don't understand the hours of work put into them. Unlike you, of course."

"Too true." Xanatos responded, with a little smirk.

The old man shot him a look and commented, "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"Maybe…" He replied playfully. Ah, the burdens of the celebrity.

"Oh, I don't know… I'm so bad with faces… " the old man continued, "Must be getting old… I'm so bad with faces…" He suddenly paused and said, "I know you! You're in the front page of Time with that nice lady who came by yesterday… you are David Xanatos… she's your wife!"

"Guilty as charged," he replied with a chuckle.

"Oh! Oh! I've never had two celebrities in my shop before! So nice to meet you, Mr. Xanatos."

"Likewise. Don't fret so much. I'm a perfectly normal human being that would like to buy Suzie and Maria."

"Those two?" the old man questioned, "Why, a man like you should have something better!"

He guided him to the back of the store, where there were even more figurines. In fact, complete sets. There was a farm, complete with glass animals and all, a magician and his assistant pulling a rabbit out of a hat, even a little circus, complete with clowns and acrobats. But he focused more on the weird bottles.

"Cute, yes?" the old man questioned.

"Interesting hobby." he commented, as he picked up an old style Coca-Cola bottle. "Collecting bottles."

"Yes, well…" the old man said as he took the bottle out of Xanatos' hands, "the figurines are right behind you…"

He was more attentive to the new bottles and lamps than the figurines, and the old man couldn't help but ask, "Do you like them?"

"They're interesting…" Xanatos replied, gazing upon the bottles.

"They're for… interesting purposes." The old man continued, "I wouldn't play with them if I were you…"

"Nonsense. Nothing can shock me anymore." Xanatos responded, now curious. Then he came upon a thing that didn't even look like a bottle. More like… a little orb of glass, the size of the Coyote Diamond he had bought a while back. "What's this?"

"Be careful!" the old man said as he yanked it off Xanatos' hands. "That's the most fragile bottle of them all!"

"It doesn't even look like a bottle…"

"But it is…! Not in the sense you'd understand, I mean…"

"Really?" Xanatos muttered. Now his interest was piqued, and when he got like that, there was no stopping him.

After much cajoling, the old man finally gave in. "Fine, fine… But you have to swear to secrecy about it. Now, I know it sounds stupid, but here it is: The bottles and lamps in this backroom are genie lamps."

Xanatos gave him a funny look.

"Don't look at me like that! They really are!" the old man replied.

Trying to avoid a chuckle, he asked, "How do you get a genie to fit in there?"

The old man gave him a look and said, "Because I say so, dammit!" he barked, then calmed down, "They just do. These bottles are empty. I only sell the bottle, you gotta go look for the fairy yourself. The fairy is trapped in here and can only obey you for three wishes. Classic tale. But unlike the legend, the fairy leaves after the three wishes, and it's usually vengeful, so I wouldn't recommend it. Besides, even if you do survive the vengeance, the bottle can only be used once, so you have to buy another one to pull the stunt again."

"Like catching a leprechaun…?" 

"Yes." Said the old man, "Now, that the glass orb doesn't look like a bottle is because it's the modified version of it. It does not trap the body, but the soul instead. No escape from it, or your money back, guaranteed."

"The ultimate fey trap…" Xanatos whispered excited.

"Precisely…"

The millionaire perked up and said, "I'll take it!" 

"What!?" the old man complained, "You're already rich, and you want more!? Curiosity killed the cat, Mr. Xanatos. Some things are best to be left alone! They are not worth it!" 

"There's no price too high for me, old man." Xanatos replied, "You know how rich I am. Believe me, there's nothing I can't handle. Name your price."

"This is not an auction at Christine's! Good Lord! Have you no respect for the higher forces?" the old man said exasperated.

"I'm up to my nose in higher forces. You should meet my in-laws!" Xanatos replied.

"I bet you do." The old man muttered sarcastically, "Oh, I know your type, smart-asses, all of you. I've sold many bottles to the likes of you and their stories have all ended in tragedy! The cure is worst than the disease! Looking for kicks, dabbling in stuff they don't understand!"

Xanatos gave the old man a bored look. "Your point being…?"

The old man looked at him offended. "It's not for sale! Ever!"

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, David Xanatos left with a glass circus and a magic orb back to Eerie Building. "Pay a man enough, and he'll walk barefoot to hell…" he mumbled with a smirk.

He didn't need to buy it, of course, but it would be an interesting story to tell the grandkids. The old man thought he was some kind of thrill-seeker — he _was_, of course, but he knew better than the people he mentioned. "Nothing bad has happened until now, so there's no harm in tempting fate… just for fun."

What were the chances of something going wrong after all they've been through?

It could all be a pack of lies, but wasted money was of no importance. But the old man looked really guilty for selling it. "It's your hide!" the old man had told him, "The blood is in your hands!" How melodramatic. _I'll have Owen check it out. He'll find it interesting…_

* * *

Fox seemed to accept the gift of the glass circus. True, it was no Pierre and Lillie, but she wasn't disappointed. Good. Maybe she'll let him sleep in the bed tonight. 

As for Xanatos, he got to the business at hand. First, he needed a capable sorcerer to tell him just what is it that he bought. Owen, the capable sorcerer, was in a meeting in a place he could not remember. Xanatos managed to drag him out of wherever he was and bring him to the castle.

"Interesting," Owen said as he inspected the rock. "But I think you've been had. It doesn't seem any different from a paperweight."

"Are you sure?" Xanatos questioned, disappointed. "It's supposed to be some sort of fey trap. That's possible, right?"

"Yes, but lamps and bottles made by a professional sorcerer. I've heard of a lineage of mages-artisans that have passed along this art to the younger generation for hundreds of years now. Perhaps the old man you talked about is one of them."

"Yes, he also sells glass figurines. I guess the fey trap business is very slow nowadays, considering the fey are gone."

"What are you planning to do if it indeed works?" Owen questioned.

Xanatos lay back in his chair and said, "Keep it around… just in case." Then he added, "I know a certain immortal fey king that needs an attitude adjustment…"

"I see. Revenge."

"Not quite. More like… " he paused to look for a word, "…a _lesson_ for trying to kidnap other people's children." Xanatos explained with a devious smirk. "You must agree with me that he deserves it."

"True." Owen replied, "But I am curious if this is real or not. Maybe I can't sense it…but…"

"Maybe Puck can…" Xanatos finished for him.

* * *

__

You'd think he'd be more thrilled…Xanatos thought to himself when he mentioned revenge against Oberon. But he was rather used to Owen's distant attitude, so it wasn't too shocking that he only gave it a moment's thought.

Or so it seemed. Xanatos could never tell what was really going on through his mind. He could only assume he was upset about being kicked out of Avalon. Otherwise, it was anyone's guess. It was amazing. He knew him better than anyone else on this Earth, and he only knew that he knew nothing. 

Maybe it was because of the white-haired factor. Xanatos never really got used to Puck's presence, since, for him, Owen was more real. In fact, he thought of them as two different people, so when he changed in front of him, it ruined the illusion.

When he thought about it more and more, it was ridiculous to think his assistant was a trickster in disguise and always, the illusion was ruined when the high winds whipped about his hair. 

So he opted to stop thinking about it anymore. Everyone deals with the unthinkable his or her own way.

He'd seen him change just once or twice before, so he took a few steps back from that spinning form of the white-haired fey. The winds were probably just for show, as it was in Puck's nature to exaggerate. He liked Owen better, maybe because of the habit, or maybe because he was more 'serious'.

"Heeereee's Puck!" he exclaimed loudly. Xanatos grunted warily as the fey trickster did a small number of calisthenics. "Damn, my back hurts from being cooped up all that time!"

Xanatos wasn't really excited about it and he rolled his eyes. Alex, for one thing, was thrilled to be included in his daddy's business. "Magic! Magic!" he said between giggles.

"That's right, Alex! I'm going to teach you a new spell!" Puck continued, "We're going to check if that little ball daddy bought has magic." Xanatos gave the sphere to his little boy. "Here's what your going to do---"

"It got magic." Alex cut Puck short before he could say anything else. "This is easy."

Xanatos and Puck looked at each other. "Then how come I don't sense it…?" the mentor mumbled.

"It _is_ a trap." Xanatos commented, "Maybe it's a surprise."

"The old guy didn't tell you any magic words and stuff, right?" Puck asked his boss. "Abracadabra, maybe?"

Xanatos shook his head. "No, nothing."

Puck turned to Alex and said, "Can you tell how it turns on? No, of course not, I haven't taught you that one. Gimme the orb." Taking it in his hands, he inspected it carefully. "Every weapon has an 'on' switch. I'm sure this one has it too…"

"Rub it." Xanatos offered, "It worked for Aladdin."

Puck arched an eyebrow, but he found it made sense. Rubbing the sphere, he mumbled sarcastically, "Hi there, anybody home…?"

Then it happened. The orb began to glow with a white light. Right before Puck could toss it aside, the thing let out a high voltage of electricity that traveled from his hands to his head, making the white hair stand on end.

He slumped forward to his knees, letting go of the orb. Before the fragile thing could shatter on the floor, Xanatos made a dive to catch it.

Puck was on his knees swaying, trembling back and forth, and muttering curses. "Are you all right!?" Xanatos snapped.

"Yeah…" Puck replied, dazed. "I just… need a little… nap…" and he passed out.

* * *

When he came to, he found himself back in his bed, rather, Owen's bed. As he struggled to get up, an all-too-familiar man walked into his line of sight, followed by an even more familiar red-head, and a very, very well known clan of gargoyles. Then they were all over him asking questions.

Before the clan could shoot him with more questions and comments, he burst, "What's going on?!"

Xanatos took out an all-to-familiar orb of magic and replied, "This is what happened." The orb had changed, now a white-bluish flame danced in the middle of it. "But do you know _why_ it's glowing that way?"

"No clue." Puck said, taking the orb and inspecting it. "I have a very, very lousy feeling about this…"

"Honestly, Xanatos," Goliath commented, "You have to stop buying every magical knick knack you come across…"

"I thought it was a paperweight!" Xanatos defended himself.

"Why is it glowing on the inside?" Broadway wondered out loud.

"Puck, I'm sorry to say that I think you fell in the trap." Fox commented. "It's supposed to trap a fey soul, and by the way it's glowing, I'm starting to think that's your soul in there."

"Oh, puh-leeze! It's metaphorical! Besides, I don't feel like I'm missing a soul." Puck scoffed.

"Not that you ever had one…" Brooklyn smirked to himself.

"Ho, ho. I laugh at your wittiness." Puck replied dryly.

"How are you supposed to know when the soul is in the crystal, Xanatos?" Goliath asked gravely. "You said something about obeying orders?"

"I guess we'd know if he's under that thing's control when someone asks for a wish…" Xanatos said.

Upon hearing those words, Brooklyn smirked and said, "Let's find out, shall we?" He snatched the orb and said, "Puck, I wish you… said you're an idiot!"

The reaction was immediate. Without thinking, Puck mechanically replied, "I'm an idiot."

The entire clan looked like idiots at that sudden declaration. "Why did you say that?" Goliath questioned.

"I don't know!" Puck said, exasperated, "It was mechanical! No control over it!!"

Brooklyn, holding the orb, said, "Let's try this again. Say you're an idiot."

"I'm an idiot." Puck replied without emotion, to then snap, "The least you could do is make me say something else!"

"Let me try…" Angela said as she took the orb from Brooklyn. She measured her words carefully and said, "Hop on one foot."

Pathetic, but Puck did as he was told. Hopping in one foot, he barked, "Could you please make it more degrading!??"

"Amazing! " Hudson gasped as Puck still hopped in one foot. "He's under the complete control of the orb!"

"Make me stop!" Puck pleaded.

"Can't you stop?" Goliath asked him.

"No! Not willfully! You gotta say it!" the fey snapped.

Xanatos grabbed the orb from Angela and said, "Puck, stop." The fey sighed in relief.

"Man, that would be great at parties…" Lexington smirked. "Can you make him quack like a duck?"

"NO, HE CAN'T." Puck told him with such murder in his eyes, that Lex actually stepped back.

Lex, disappointed, muttered to Broadway in a whiny voice, "He's not gonna make him quack…"

"Gimme the orb, Xanatos! I don't trust my orb in the hands of these psychos!" Puck told his master, who handed it to him without a reply. "Now, all I need is to get to that little shop of horrors and kick the snot out of the salesman…!"

"But it's not the old man's fault." Fox piped in.

"The way I see it, it's Xanatos fault," Broadway continued.

"How's it my fault!?" Xanatos whined, "I never thought it would actually work! Look, I'll drop by right this minute and ask for a cure. In the meanwhile," He turned to Puck, "don't let go of that orb. I'm not sure if your 'soul' is really in there, but if you don't want to do dumb parlor tricks, keep it with you."

"Oh, you can bet I won't let it go!" Puck snorted.

"Aww…" Lex muttered.

* * *

It was almost 9 o' clock, but that didn't stop Xanatos and Fox from driving to 'Genie in a bottle' to try and save Puck from a lifetime of acting like a trained monkey. 

"Jeez, David, what were you thinking?" Fox complained.

"I swear I didn't mean to use it on him, Fox, it was an accident." Xanatos replied, "Besides, we can still make it right. I'll just go in there and get a cure."

Much to their disgust, it was closed. 'Gone off for the weekend. Be back Monday' Xanatos read out loud. "Just our luck, he went on vacation. What are we going to do?"

"Well, it's just three days. Puck can live with that, I think." Fox replied.

"You're right." Xanatos continued, "What could possibly go wro--"

"Don't say it, David!" Fox interrupted. "Those are the magic words. You don't have to make it worst! His life is hanging in balance because of you, you don't have to finish him off!"

"I didn't mean it, Fox, you gotta believe me. I'd never do anything to hurt Owen on purpose. This is just an accident. He'll be ok. You'll see."

Fox crossed her arms and said, "You just couldn't help yourself, could you? Just why in the world would you want a fey trap? The fey are gone!"

"I was just curious!"

"Ha!" Fox scoffed, "Face it, you're just addicted to this kind of stuff. Don't you have enough with Demona, Puck, and the gargoyles? You always want more! Some things are better left off alone. Why add extra complication to our lives?"

"It was an accident! In how many languages can I say it?" Xanatos complained, "I didn't mean harm. Plus, we can fix it. You know I'd do anything for you guys. I'll shower that guy in hundred bills if it means helping Owen."

Fox shot him a look and said, "One of this days, there won't be money enough on this Earth to clean up the mess you'll lead us into…"

* * *

"Three days? I have to wait three days…?"

He didn't take the news of the shop owner's vacation very well. Puck cursed and mumbled between teeth, but seemed resigned to put up with it for three days. That is, if the old man had a cure after all.

"Are you _sure_ he's coming back?" Puck asked his boss.

"Why wouldn't he?" Xanatos asked back.

Puck sighed and said, "I don't have to tell you what could happen if somebody ever got a hold of the orb…"

He didn't have to comment on what Xanatos knew so well. Puck's main worry was that some psycho would get a hold of the orb and do his will with him. It got him paranoid, but that was understandable.

"Nothing's going to happen." Xanatos assured him. "Will it help if I lock it in my personal safe…?"

Puck seemed to consider it. "Ok," he had told him, "You're the only person I can trust in the entire castle…" then he added in a more serious tone: 

"Tell me nothing will happen to it. Even if the old man doesn't have a cure! Tell me that if disaster strikes, you'll do your best, your very best, to fix it. I know some things are beyond your control, but at least tell me that you'll do what is humanly possible to make this right. Please. _Please_."

And he said it with such sincerity, Xanatos was actually alarmed by him, actually alarmed by the importance of the promise for Puck. "Who do you think I am? I'm not going to hurt you." Xanatos said in a light-hearted tone, trying to break his tension, though not exactly succeeding. With the moonlight on his face, it occurred to him to say, "I swear by the moon."

"Don't swear by the moon, it's inconstant."

"Nonsense." Xanatos replied. "Sometimes, I think the moon hasn't changed phases since the gargoyles woke up from the first time…"

"Don't be foolish. The only constant around here is inconstancy." Puck scoffed.

"Yeah, but the moon always shows the same face."

"That's 'cause she's afraid to turn her back on us for a minute. We let her down." 

"Then what do you want me to swear on?"

"I don't know. Swear on yourself. Or don't swear at all."

"I _always_ keep my pacts." 

"Right. Then keep me this: Don't let _me_ down. Even if the unthinkable happens, don't let _me_ down…"

He looked at him with such seriousness that was uncanny for the fey. Xanatos tried not to let himself get intimidated like that, and said, "I won't let you down. I promise."

And the orb stayed in the safe for two days, as humans reckon time.

* * *

It was Sunday night, Monday would come soon enough. It was near midnight when Xanatos found himself staring at the moon outside his office's window. It wasn't that he wanted to be awake at 1 am in the morning, but there is no end to the work of a CEO.

Writing mindlessly on God-knows-what, he paused for a moment, and found himself staring at his safe.

He took the orb out of his safe and stared at it intently. It still shone with that mystical flame inside. He remembered the Pink Panther movies, where the diamond stolen had a little panther dancing in the middle, and he couldn't help but connect it to this incident.

There was a plus side to all of this. It was his motto to look good in bad; surely, this could have a more useful purpose. So things had gone a little haywire, but complication is what makes life interesting. As he would remember much, much later, he began to fantasize out loud:

"Now I have a working trap. If my beloved in-laws decide to come on over for a visit, I'll have it made. If Oberon showed up, I'd trap him. Then he'll beg me to let him go, and I'll ask for a price first. Or better yet, I'd keep him around and make him do humiliating tasks. And he'd serve until the day I die. Maybe I'll ask him to be immortal. Ha! I'll have it made in the shade!"

But perhaps time, fate or God had other plans. For David Xanatos, holding in his hands the orb that possessed Puck; wasn't very careful.

As he would remember afterwards, he would think of the incidents regarding Pierre & Lillie as an ominous omen.

And with the same facility Pierre's arm had snapped, the orb simply slipped from his hands. And the orb in his hands fell. And most importantly, the orb _shattered_. 

And the orb was not an orb, it was pieces of an orb, and the panther in the orb exploded in a bright light that made no heat and no sound, but as he would've learned soon enough, it was felt on the security desk on the ground floor.

David Xanatos, upon his recollection a few hours later, would remember that about the same time the panther in the diamond seemed to fade away with a strong wind that came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, the old man's words came back to him: "The blood is in your hands!"

And he would remember, much, much later, that the man's words echoed louder when he saw Owen Burnett's body lay lifelessly on his bedroom's floor.

* * *

"Now you've done it…" Goliath muttered to Xanatos. "You've killed him."

"He's not dead!" Xanatos snapped back.

Sitting in the waiting room of Eerie Building's medical wing, Xanatos shot Goliath a look and muttered, "Like I could actually feel any worse…"

"Explain it to me again," Goliath told him, sarcastically, "The man trusts you with his soul and you end up shattering it in a thousand pieces?"

"Goliath, I'm not in the mood." Xanatos replied dryly and thought to himself, _It slipped? That was it? It slipped? I took on Goliath but can't move a magical orb from point A to point B? I knew something bad could happen, but that was _it_? How useless. How utterly ridiculous…_

Goliath, with an expression of scowl in his face, said, "I hope this is a lesson for you, Xanatos. Just because you find something magical, it is not your 'duty' to buy it. Next time, leave it alone."

"It was an accident, Goliath…"

"But it could've been prevented if you had simply heeded the old man's advice and left it alone." Goliath continued.

"Blaming me won't make it ok." Xanatos replied, "The past is set and done. We can't do a thing to change it."

"But we learn from it, can we? Now that Owen is probably dying because of your mistake, I hope the lesson sticks."

"He's not dying. For all we know, the spell could've been broken the instant that thing shattered."

"And for all we know, he could be in a coma for all time." Goliath replied matter-of-factly. "Even if he did make it, the next time you try to pull another stunt like this could end up in another disaster."

"This is _not_ a disaster. We have this under control, Goliath." The millionaire replied dryly. "I always have things under control. We'll get out of this one yet."

"_You_ might get out of this one. But I'm not so sure about Owen…" The gargoyle retorted, "Not only are you beginning to hurt the people around you, one day, you'll get yourself killed too… and there won't be another 'I told you so'."

Xanatos scoffed and leaned back in the chair. "This is not a disaster to begin with. I'm sure Owen will be perfectly fine. Passing out is preferable to death."

Goliath grunted but said nothing more. The clan came and went occasionally to check on things. They waited patiently but it wasn't until 4 am when the doctor finally approached them.

Xanatos, with a messed appearance and bags under his eyes, woke up his darling Fox. "Are we there yet?" She had muttered sleepily.

"What's the news, doctor?" Xanatos asked Dr Carol Myers, a petite woman with short blond hair, already accustomed to gargoyles. She had no idea about Owen, of course, all she knew was that he had suffered 'a bad fall'.

"Well," she said, "There's no signs of concussion. I say we could let him out by morning. He'd still have to come back for a check-up, but overall, I say he'll live. In fact, I think he's coming around."

Xanatos smiled relieved and told Goliath, "See. I told you he would be fine."

Goliath grunted and Fox asked the doctor, "When can we see him?"

She led the trio down the hall. This was Eerie Building's very own medical wing, the best of the best in the entire state. It had all the essentials of a normal hospital, plus the few extras courtesy that couldn't be found anywhere else.

Owen was in a dull room in white with an AV unit next to him and a screen with an undulating green line going 'beep-beep-beep'.

He was startled, that Xanatos could tell by the way that he looked around; shocked to find himself here. "Mr. Xanatos?" Owen asked as he saw him cross the doorway, "What's going on?"

"You've had an accident." Fox answered for her husband, "The orb… it sort of shattered… and you blacked out and we brought you here."

"The orb shattered?" Owen repeated, somewhat dazed. Then he asked something none of them liked, "What orb?"

The Xanatoses and Goliath exchanged looks. "The orb." Goliath answered. "The orb that controlled you. Do you not remember it?"

"I don't. I feel… fried. I can't recall anything at all before waking up here." The blond replied.

"Perhaps when the spell was broken, it took these last few day's memories with it." Xanatos commented. "It could happen."

"I suppose so…" Goliath said to himself.

"I would guess that he's free from the spell." Fox continued. "The orb's pieces we managed to recover aren't shinning anymore, so there's nothing else left to control him." She turned to Owen and said, "But how are _you_ feeling?"

"Fine, I think…" the blond muttered, somewhat distant.

"Well, that was an experience I could've done without." Xanatos said casually then glanced at Goliath, "But it's an averted disaster with no death. I guess Puck's ready to give Alex another lesson. Maybe something along the lines of avoiding traps…" he turned to his assistant and asked, "What'd you think?" 

Owen glanced at his boss curiously. "Who's Puck?"

They all froze momentarily and began to look at each other. "Well, who's Puck?" Owen repeated to all of them. "Do I know him?"

"Perhaps, Xanatos," Goliath whispered to Xanatos' ear, "There are worse fates than death…"

CHAPTER TWO**  
**_~ The Undelivered ~_

"Why are you looking at me like that…?" Owen Burnett told his boss, as the latter stared wide-eyed at him, along with Goliath and Fox.

It took them a fair amount of minutes to take it all in. They all stared at each other, then at Owen, them at each other again. After a few uncomfortable minutes, Owen crossed his arms and said, "Well?" 

Fox spoke up, to say only, "You're joking… right?"

Owen just stared and said with a matter-of-factly tone, "Why would I be joking?"

"Puck, this is not amusing." Goliath told him, crossing his arms and with the annoyed tone he usually had every time he had to deal with the white-haired trickster.

"Who's Puck?" Owen repeated, genuinely confused.

Goliath didn't say anything, but he was somewhere between annoyance, distrust and worry. It was the same for the rest of them, who wondered if this was a sick joke or not.

Xanatos, who knew his assistant better than anyone in the castle, knew he was actually serious. Owen's not one to play jokes on them, and surely, not something like this. Owen didn't play jokes. He didn't have a sense of humor, period.

"He's not kidding, Fox." The millionaire declared, with some unconscious dread in his voice. "Dear God, he's not kidding…"

"Stop it! You're freaking us out…!" Fox told him.

Owen just sat there, with a serious look of doubt on his face, as he said, "Did I do something wrong?"

"It's the orb." Goliath declared what they all knew. "It shattered. It must have done something to him…"

While the three mortals exchanged looks, Owen couldn't help but say, "Could somebody explain to me what's going on…?"

As Goliath and Fox began to talk all at once, Xanatos felt a headache coming on. From that point on he understood, damn him, he understood…

Things had gone to hell, and as childish as it sounded, it was all his fault. 

* * *

It wasn't until the next night when the rest of the gargoyles were brought up to speed. The sun had risen before Goliath had a chance to discuss what happened, so they were quite amazed when they learned about Owen's sudden crisis at sunset. 

Xanatos spent the rest of the day just making sure Owen was all right‚ while thinking what to do. Having spent the night drinking coffee after coffee, his caffeine-overdosed mind couldn't come up with anything relevant, other than to think:

__

I slipped? That was it? Was that really me? Why am I so suddenly clumsy? Clumsy, clumsy, so damned clumsy…

It clicked in his caffeine-altered mind, then, that Pierre and Lillie were an ominous omen, that he wasn't just clumsy, he was just plain sloppy, fantasying about the thousand deaths of Oberon, and that when the orb shattered, he couldn't see anything, but he felt the pound of magic make the very Earth tremble and that the old man's threat came back to him…

Owen was still in the medical wing, at his doctor's insistence, to which Xanatos all too readily acceded. She thought it would be best for him to stay put, 'just in case'. 

If she only knew.

As for Xanatos, in the global meeting the castle inhabitants often held in cases like this —which happened all too often nowadays— he faced the rest of his comrades in an effort to look for a solution that would not come. 

"We can't leave him like that…" Fox had told him, and that was the general consensus among Wyvern inhabitants. Xanatos knew that, of course, no use getting reminded of it.

"Ok, so he's forgotten all about his real persona. I guess we all saw that one coming." Lexington had commented, "Now what do we do about it?"

"What else can we do? We're going to bring him back." Xanatos said, matter-of-factly.

Goliath had sighed and said, "The old man?"

"Precisely," Xanatos continued, "Magic shattered him, magic can pull him together. Surely, the old man has planned for these things."

"I don't think so." Brooklyn commented, "What's he going to do? Take the orb and piece it together with Crazy Glue?" 

"It's worth a shot." Goliath grumbled, then couldn't help but add in a semi-sarcastic tone, "But I'm sure that if all else fails, Xanatos will gladly take care of Owen."

That much was true for Xanatos, but what bothered him most was the tone in which he said it. "What's that supposed to mean…?"

"What I mean is that you'll take care of Puck, right? After all, this is _your_ fault to begin with. What are you going to do if this doesn't work?" Goliath continued.

"Of course I'll take care of him," Xanatos retorted, "What makes you think I'll bail out on him after I've caused him so much damage?"

"Only the fact that you've bailed out of other people before." Elisa muttered to herself.

"Name one." Xanatos challenged, obviously annoyed at Elisa.

"I can name plenty." Elisa replied, "Like a certain clan of mutates I happen to know…" she shot Xanatos a look.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Xanatos grunted and crossed his arms, while the rest of the clan gave him a 'she-got-you-there' look. "I promised you I'd fix it. Just so happens I'm working on it."

"I bet it keeps you up at night…" Elisa muttered dryly.

"You know… it's the least you could do for Puck, considering how good he's been to you." Hudson spoke up, then muttered, "I don't think you appreciate his work for you…"

"Of course I appreciate him." Xanatos replied, slightly insulted though he tried not to show it.

"But does he know it?" Hudson continued, "I remember something about this certain Caldron of Life, and this certain stone hand… and coming back to it, I don't recall hearing a 'thank-you'… then the Gathering…I don't remember a 'thank-you' there neither…"

Xanatos was insulted, and was about to press the matter when Fox spoke up in defense of her husband. "Guys, just what do you take my husband for?" Xanatos smiled to himself. Good old Fox. Always thinking with her head. "Even if he wanted to leave him like that, it's in his best interest to save him."

Xanatos face dropped. " 'Best interest'?" he repeated, "You think I'd help him for the sole reason that it's in my 'best interest'?"

The clan didn't answer right away; they just looked away and stared to the floor or ceiling, pretending not to hear that question.

The millionaire began to get really upset, _Oh, this is a good one. Taking out all the skeletons of the closet…_"I assure you, I'll take care of Puck, no matter what happens. Your attempts to make me feel responsible are unnecessary…"

__

But really efficient…

* * *

He arrived to 'Genie in a bottle' right after that meeting. Taking out the shattered pieces of the orb, he stared and hoped the old man had a cure, only to find a sign reading 'CLOSED'.

"It can't be… he said he'd be back yesterday…"

He asked around to find out if the neighbors had heard anything, but they knew nothing. Damn the old man. Why didn't he see it coming? It was so classic when one got to think about it. A strange old man in a weird little shop of horrors, and the imbecile that buys precisely what the guy said to keep away from; and by God, David Xanatos was that imbecile. The thought alone gave him a headache.

Why didn't he leave things alone? Why not keep things as is?

Because he was Xanatos, the imbecile, that's why.

Xanatos left the shop with an awful ache in his stomach that comes from being absolutely clueless as to what to do next. He didn't know, he didn't admit, the hopelessness of the situation because his damned confidence led to clumsiness and he had no one else to blame but himself, _because it had been him who broke the promise_…

It was complicated, really.

__

I shouldn't have sworn upon the moon…

And as if guilt's ugly head rearing through the corners of his mind wasn't enough, there was the emotional battering back at the castle. _So…_ Xanatos was asked soon after he arrived back at Wyvern, _How did it go?_ He had the pain of explaining the spectacularly unsuccessful events that went down on the old man's shop. _Destroyed by his employer. That poor boy,_ one too many repeated.

He was met with cold gazes and sarcastic comments that really boiled him, so he opted to retreat his humiliated self from the common room to… pout somewhere else, he guessed. There wasn't really much he could do afterwards.

Counting the cracks in his ceiling, he wondered why Puck was suddenly so popular now that he had the 'accident'. _'That poor boy', they say. I'm sure they wouldn't have minded so much if I hadn't been the one to drop it._

Because that was it, wasn't it? Because they saw it coming. They saw it coming the day he would betray his assistant‚ like he had done with many others. 

Damn the whole lot of them.

Someone knocked on the door. Xanatos actually perked up; hoping somebody suddenly came up with some sort of magical solution for the problem. But it was Goliath, with an 'I-told-you-so' and 'you-are-pathetic' all in one look for him.

"Such tragedy." Goliath told him. "There's nothing you can do now. But I suppose it had to happen: a situation in which you are totally… what's that word Brooklyn uses…? Ah… 'screwed'."

Even Goliath was getting sarcastic. It was worse than he thought. Though he was never one to get _too_ upset, now he felt depressed. "Thank you for that wonderful vote of confidence…" Xanatos commented dryly.

"What are you going to do now, o fearless one?" Goliath commented.

Xanatos shot him a look. "Listen up, 'cause I'll only say this once. I swear on everything holy that I will mend this, even if I die trying!"

Goliath grunted, but he was somewhat more respectful towards the millionaire. "Very well. So… did you tell Owen you failed?"

Xanatos said nothing. A subject he obviously wanted to avoid, judging by that look on his face. "I'll tell him tomorrow."

"Why not tell him _now_?"

"He's already gone to bed, what the hell am I supposed to do, wake him up at 3 am to tell him 'sorry, I failed'?"

The gargoyle replied, "Now, don't take me wrong. I was just wondering wherever you'd tell him or not. You haven't really spoken to him. Is he angry? Resentful?"

"He looked ok…" Xanatos commented, or rather, mumbled somewhat sheepishly.

"You know better than to judge him by appearances alone." Goliath replied. "If I were him, I'd be angry. Maybe even vengeful." He continued, "He could even damn you to hell." _I'd pay to see that…_Goliath would've added, had he had the chance.

If a few minutes before he was down, now David Xanatos was the forbidding bottom of the dark recesses of his mind.

What _was_ Owen going to say?

* * *

It wasn't until 10 am the next day that the doctor gave the ok on Owen's release. Xanatos hadn't had the time —or will— to speak to Owen about Puck, but the fact was that Owen didn't seem too perturbed.

He was oblivious to it, actually.

Alas, Goliath's comforting words came back to him and made him feel incredibly awkward to be next to his majordomo the very next morning. Had he _not_ listened to Goliath, he would've saved himself considerable grief.

So when he offered Owen to carry his bags and tried to look casual while doing it, he did just the opposite, and acted like a nervous kid on a first date. Owen, to whom the failed charade was meant for, saw right through him. That he had no idea about who was Puck didn't make him an idiot.

"Are you sure you're all right, sir?" Owen asked his employer.

"Yes. Of course." Xanatos responded, not particularly convincing, with an awkward look to him. "What makes you say that?"

He wasn't sick, no, God forbid. He was just somewhat sleepy, after staying up all night counting the cracks in the ceiling and swimming pathetically in the sea of self-pity. Damn him, damn him… he shouldn't have sworn upon the moon…

Swimming in the sea of pity while his assistant didn't seem too disturbed. Owen was even —so help me— cheerful this morning. He behaved normally. Even Dr. Myers, the woman that had attended him last night, checked him out and declared him 'healthy', all while Xanatos thought to himself: _If you only knew…_

He was … indifferent. Maybe that's what bothered him most this morning. That everything had taken an air of normality and life went on as usual. Everything felt indifferent and normal and usual and that was really bothering Xanatos. 

That Owen thought nothing of the incident also agitated him. He had no idea what was going through his assistant's mind — not that he ever knew in the first place.

"Sir, can I be frank?" Owen spoke up unexpectedly.

"Always!" Xanatos perked up, alarmed. "What? What is it?"

"You look miserable." Owen replied matter-of-factly.

The millionaire gave him a small, disappointed, "Oh…"

"You really do. What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Xanatos repeated to himself, "Jeez, Puck, you've forgotten you are you!" he asked, "Doesn't it matter to you?"

"Hmmm… no."

Xanatos gave him a look and asked, "You _do_ know what's wrong with you… right?"

Owen silently shook his head.

The next fifteen minutes going up on the elevator was a rather useless waste of time. Xanatos began to ramble, and had he played any attention, he would've noticed Owen's gaze upon him; staring at him as if he were a lunatic. 

"…so when the orb shattered, you forgot you were you and thought the you were then was you, get it?"

Owen just stared at him blankly and said, "Will you get upset if I say no…?"

Xanatos shook his head and moaned, "Why do I even bother?" He took a deep breath and said, "Are you _sure_ you don't remember Puck?" the millionaire asked over and over again.

"No," Owen replied calmly. "I have no idea who are you talking about." 

"What about the Gathering? You _have_ to remember the Gathering! Don't you remember Oberon?"

"Why, no. Is he a friend of yours?" Owen asked.

"Owen… don't you realize _you_ are Puck?" Xanatos pleaded, "You are Puck. He is you. You are him. Don't you think it's strange you have such a gap in your memory? It's because when you forgot about Puck, you lost those memories. Do you understand? Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Oh, I get it!" Owen replied, then said, "That's my _nickname_!"

Had Owen been in complete control of his faculties, Xanatos reasoned; he would at least question himself in the memory gaps. The thing that was more disturbing was that he didn't know there was something wrong in the first place. He didn't even ask himself why he didn't remember anything before Renard. He didn't remember his childhood, his school…

Instead, Xanatos was the one worried about it, and pressing the matter. He felt like banging his head on a wall. It was frustrating. It was talking to a shadow or an echo that couldn't really reason for itself. _He's never going to remember… and it'll be my fault…_

Because I couldn't even keep a stupid promise…

"I don't understand. Just how did this happen?" Owen questioned.

The millionaire didn't know what to say. "A very clumsy person broke something he shouldn't." was all he limited himself to say, neglecting to mention he was the cause for all of this. It didn't seem… necessary. "That's all we know," was the only thing he could add.

"I don't know what's the big deal." Owen continued, rather casually, making Xanatos believe this wasn't really that normal after all, "Shit happens."

Xanatos stared at him wide-eyed, going, "Say what?" 

The first thing that really bothered him was how Owen calmly made it all seem ok. The second thing that really bothered him was that he'd never heard his assistant cursing casually.

Oh, no, siree. Normal waved bye-bye when the orb hit the floor. 

CHAPTER THREE**  
**_~ The way it goes ~_

It was a stroll down the paths of weirdness; that it was. As much as Xanatos would like it to be otherwise, life went on… but with one or two modifications.

He had not taken his eyes off from Owen for five minutes when he lost track on him. Xanatos tried not to get too worried about it and quietly asked around whether someone had seen him or not. This was the tallest building of the world, and he really didn't feel like wasting time searching from floor to floor. He found him doing his customary rounds, but he was… different. Cheerful, somehow. He seemed so altered…

It wasn't until he softly began to sing 'Livin' la Vida Loca' that the rest of the floor began to realize there was something off with their leader.

Xanatos, embarrassed for him already, pulled him beside and said, "Owen, we need to talk…" In the privacy of Xanatos' office, he finally said, "Don't do that again."

Owen, whom was thankfully oblivious to the reaction of his employees when Xanatos dragged him to his office, asked, "Do what?"

"Please! Try not to act so stoned!"

"What?" Owen asked back incredulous.

Upon realizing Owen had no clue as to what he was talking about, he decided to say, "Why don't you take the day off?"

He soon noticed Owen had his eyes on him. He circled around Xanatos' desk, as if inspecting him, and declared, "Is this about the orb thing again?" He shook his head and went tsk-tsk. "Why do you worry about me so? I'm not sick."

"This is not about if you're sick or not—"

"Then what _is_ this about?"

"Well, it's _about_…" he paused when he didn't know what to answer. Owen crossed his arms and shot him a look. Somewhat indignated by the attitude, Xanatos began, "Now, you listen to me---"

"_You_ listen to me." What's the problem? I can do my job, _sir_." Owen interjected, roughly, that actually got Xanatos nervous. Then he added, more lighthearted, "Don't be foolish. Who's going to take care of you if I'm gone?" Owen replied, with a tone that made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world.

Xanatos groaned softly to himself. The clan was all over him scolding him, the only one backing him up was his sick assistant was oblivious to the fact that he was sick, and the staff thought he was on something. "I've no doubt you're still sharp as ever, it's just that… _you are not well_."

Owen actually looked wounded. "I see." He said, calmly, softly, "Very well, sir… I'll be going."

An awkward silence took over. "You're not upset, are you?" Xanatos spoke up.

He began to turn away, and he said, his voice neutral, "Do whatever you think is best." His back was turned so, that Xanatos couldn't see the expression on his face.

Xanatos felt somewhat intimidated, which was a really eerie feeling. He had no idea what went through Owen's mind —not that he ever knew in the first place— but now it was truly alarming.

He got this extraordinarily bad feeling in his stomach, like when his old man once commented he was disappointed in him after he gave him a tour of the castle. The two feelings were curiously similar.

__

Don't let me down, Xanatos, he remembered Puck telling him, _Even if the unthinkable happens, don't let _me_ down!_

Please don't be upset… he thought as his assistant walked out the door, and he felt the ground sink…

* * *

It was that the next day, early in the morning, he diligently grabbed the orb's remains from his safe and tried to check if the pieces came together. It was a futile exercise; he had tried it before, with no luck. What was the point anyway…? One needed magic to pull it together… Still, the drive to do something, no matter how useless, got a hold of him. It was a panicky feeling not to do something.

Then he set out to visit the old man's shop once more. Taking out the shattered pieces of the orb, Xanatos stared, hoped the old man had a cure, then entered the shop.

Nothing had changed, of course. Different types of bottles still adorned one wall and figurines embroidered the counterpart. The millionaire sighed, and got mentally prepared to beg, if needed.

The old man was behind the counter, seemingly sweeping the floor. "Hi, there." Xanatos told him, "Are you busy?"

The shop's owner perked up, and said, "Welcome to 'Genie is a bottle', how may I—" he paused when he saw Xanatos there, and frowned. "Oh… it's you." He obviously wasn't thrilled about seeing him again, and the feeling was mutual. "So… looking for another magical trinket? I don't have anything else."

"No… I was actually looking for a favor." Xanatos felt awful asking help from him, right after the old man told him to not buy it in the first place. "Hmm… it's about the orb…" He didn't know how to go about it. He sighed and said, "That is a long story. It's a little weird… but I'm sure a magical artisan like yourself have heard stranger stories…" 

Over the steaming cup of tea, after Xanatos' tale was done, the old man simply stared at the millionaire and said, "Oh… I've heard strange stories… but this definitely ranks 10 in my weird-o'-meter…"

He was about the only stranger who ever knew the truth about Owen. He seemed trustworthy, after all, he's a sorcerer too. Xanatos took the liberty of taking out the details concerning the gargoyles, but the old man understood the point.

"Oh, I understand perfectly…" Said the old man, "You've double-crossed your so-called friend! After all he's done for you! Bastard!"

Xanatos pounded the table and barked, "It was an accident!"

Even though he was a total stranger that had no idea about the rest of Xanatos' _dastardly_ deeds, even though he had no reason to mistrust him, he was no different from the other's, thinking the worst of him.

"Can't you people understand I'm not _that_ big a bastard?" Xanatos complained, "That maybe deep inside…"

"…really, really deep inside…" the old man muttered.

Xanatos chose to ignore the comment, "…I know better than to harm an ally on purpose? It wasn't meant for him, it was for another person…" 

"The way I see it, you're still a bastard…"

Xanatos, indignated, inquired. "What would you know, you don't even know me…?"

"Let's see… you come into my store, looking for a figurine, yet instead you practically forced me to give you a soul trap for your own selfish, vengeful reasons, looking to harm another living being… Then you target your fey servant, and though he's your 'ally', you shatter his soul in a thousand pieces, and hence, he looses his mind…" the man paused, "Am I missing anything, you greedy bastard?"

"I'm _not greedy_." Xanatos retorted matter-of-factly.

The old man burst in laughter, until he met Xanatos' cold gaze. "Oh, you were _serious_!"

Xanatos, exasperated, said, "It was just a stupid orb!"

"Tell that to Owen, hmm?" the old man told him, with a sarcastic smile. "Now, what on Earth were you thinking when you dropped the damned thing?"

"Well, I…" he began, _Fantasized, looked for revenge against Oberon because I'm a selfish bastard_, "…don't seem to remember right now…" Xanatos slumped back in the sofa. "Does that mean you won't help me? All you've done is preach me. Will you do something useful or not?"

The old man scoffed and said, "What am _I_ supposed to do? I just build traps! I've never faced such a predicament before! What do you want me to say? What do you want me to do? Piece it together with Crazy Glue?" 

He stopped ranting to put down his cup of coffee. He seemed thoughtful and then took a deep breath, "I've never faced a dilemma such as this. You shatter a fey's soul, but he does not die… He just thinks he's someone else… I don't know. Isn't the spell broken?"

"Yeah. The orb's pieces stopped glowing."

"Odd. The spell is supposed to end when the orb shattered. Then why doesn't he…" He halted, and he looked as if he'd just had divine enlightenment.

Something in the old man's face wasn't a good omen for Xanatos. "Tell me…" the old man began, "Explain again this Puck/Owen business…"

Xanatos just gave him the overall superficial details, as not to let him know _too_ much, so he really didn't like that he asked more about it. "What you want to know?"

"What is he? Can I call it a he? Or should I say 'them'?"

Xanatos stared at him blankly. "I'm not following."

"It's a simple question. Is it plural or singular??"

"Plural or singular what?" Xanatos asked, "Do you even _know_ what you're talking about?"

"Hey, I've seen enough made-for-tv movies to know what I'm dealing with." The old man replied, "You know these Lifetime movies where the girl has these… 'other people' waltzing in her head? I remember one she didn't know she was a prostitute at night and—"

"_Meaning_?" Xanatos interrupted impatiently.

"Meaning that the girl in the movie had this so-called 'multi-personality syndrome' and---don't shake your head like that!" the old man said, because that's what Xanatos was doing.

"That's impossible. This is Owen were talking about, not a madman."

"I never said that! I was just wondering; after all, you do know…'him'… better than anybody. I'm just wondering how are… 'them'. You've known 'him' for over a decade. Explain it to me."

Xanatos opened his mouth. And closed it again.

The old man just stared, as if saying, _Well?_

"I've… never asked him."

The old man shook his head. "Ten years and you know zilch about his state of mind?"

"It's not like that! It's never… I've never…" he didn't know how to say it, "…bothered to wonder, I guess. I just…" he paused, "…ignored that part, I think."

The old man shook his head once more and said, "Well, let me put it this way. You came in claiming your video wasn't working, but that's none of my concern if the VCR is defective in the first place…"

"What the heck's that supposed to mean?"

"Just what you think it means." The old man replied coldly. "I can't help it if he was already cracked a bit. And, please, even to me, this is obvious. It doesn't take a psychiatrist to know there are a few loose bolts on your boy. I mean---taking another 'persona'? I don't know…"

Xanatos took it personally, as if the insult were meant for him. "He's _not_ nuts!" 

"Maybe. But this is not on the warranty, if you know what I'm talking about…" the old man replied, "I can't do anything about it." He sighed, "Let's think about this rationally. Suppose that he's got multiple-personalities."

"He doesn't!"

"Suppose he _does_!" the old man said, annoyed at the interruption. "Let's _pretend_ he has it, ok!? I know this has 'magic' written all over it, but let's try to see if we can dumb it down so our mortal minds can comprehend!?" Xanatos grunted and the old man took it as an affirmative. "Now… let's _pretend_ he does. There's the fey and there's the human. The human has forgotten the fey. Other people would call him cured, but this is actually bad news because he was _born_ fey. Now… the question is if the fey is in there somewhere." He sighed, "Personally, I don't think so."

"Why!?"

"Because that's the way the spell was crafted. It was meant to hold the soul. It is shatters, it's supposed to kill the fey, I think."

"Then why is he alive!?"

"_Is_ he alive?" asked the old man, "Breathing, yes… but… he does not remember who he is. Isn't man the sum of his memories? What happens if those memories are gone?"

"Amnesiacs are alive, you can't deny that. Owen is alive."

"Amnesiacs aren't themselves anymore. And I'm not talking about Owen, I'm talking about Puck. Take a man's memories from him, and he's not him anymore. He's someone new. Puck is not Owen; Owen is Owen, you follow me?"

"Not really…"

"Puck is gone, and Owen happened to be there, so that's whose in charge, _got it_?"

"But that sounds as if Puck is dead!"

"And he is!" the old man exclaimed.

Xanatos felt momentarily broken-hearted. "No, no, you don't understand. It is _imperative_ he remembers himself. What am I supposed to do, let him go on without knowing he's not who he thinks he is?"

"Don't pin this one on me. _You_ were the one that broke it in the first place. You break it; you buy it. Universal rule for salesmen and applicable to most aspects in life." The old man told him.

"Does it mean you're not going to help me…?" Xanatos muttered.

"It means there's nothing I could _do_ to help…" the old man replied. "I would. Honestly. But I don't know how."

* * *

"David, honey, get your ass down here…!" Fox called enraged. She grabbed Goliath by a wing and pointed upwards. "Goliath, get him down!"

"Xanatos…" Goliath called, "Can you at least explain to us what's going on?"

They were in the library, Xanatos' library, where its owner had somehow climbed one of the bookstands all the way to the top shelf, something of an achievement, because it reached the roof and the roofs of Wyvern Castle were something amazing.

Completely ignoring his onlookers, Xanatos focused on the books, "D… DeMarco, Democracy, D… demons! Aha! Look out below!" He grabbed the book and threw it down. He took out a little list he previously stuffed in his pocket. He grinned to himself. "F… as in fairies…"

"Daviiiiiid!" Fox shrieked, "Get your ass down here!"

He sighed heavily and said, "Just a moment, dear…"

But it would take several more hours for him to start explaining himself. The rest of the gargoyles thought he already lost it and stayed out of his way. Fox, in turn, was hopelessly confused and followed him wherever he went.

"David, what _are_ you up?" Fox had asked him when she spotted him in the library reading all the books he had recovered. He didn't even turn on all the lights, because the night was so bright tonight. The full moon looked really, really big tonight.

"I'm not tired, that's all." he said, absentmindedly, as he kept on reading a book two times his weight.

"Come to bed, this isn't good for you."

He didn't listen. He didn't ignore her, but he didn't listen. He was a billion miles from here, so he didn't listen. But Fox kept insisting, so he put down the book. And even then he didn't listen, he was looking out the library's window while she talked. Then it occurred to him to comment, "Isn't this the darnest thing?"

"Then Goliath said—" his question interrupted her halfway through her story. "What is?"

"Look out the window. What do you see?"

She looked out the window, to her husband, and out the window again. "Is this a trick question?"

"Have you ever noticed…" he said, "…that the moon hasn't changed phases since I woke up the gargoyles? I was thinking about that just now. As far as I can remember, there has always been a full moon outside my window. It's… one of those things…" He sighed and added, "I hope I never see it change. The night I see it differently it'll be... it'll be the darkest night ever…"

"That's a shame," Fox commented, "Full moons only happen once a month. It's not very dependable. Juliet said so."

"Juliet?"

" 'Swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon…' You know Romeo and Juliet. In the balcony —or in the swimming pool, according to the Leonardo DiCaprio movie—when Romeo swears true love by the moon, she tells him not to, because it's inconstant."

Not a DiCaprio fan, he couldn't remember it. But he could remember a conversation with the same concept. "I guess it's a bad thing to swear on…" he said, because if memory served him right, both Romeo and Juliet ended up dead. 

"Fox, I've had a nightmarish week." He suddenly added, "I… don't know what it means." He continued, "What should I do? Everything's… changed somehow. The moon is still full, but there are these slight changes…" he looked at her and said, "You know… I think this is one of the few times in my life I just… I don't know. You know how difficult it's to say those three words in a sequence. I-don't-know."

"Don't beat yourself up, David." she comforted, "You're only human. And there's nothing… _nothing_ you can do now…"

Xanatos sighed and said nothing. He just stared at the moon and got the feeling it was laughing at him…

* * *

When the glass circus Xanatos had brought back from 'Genie in a Bottle' shattered in a billion pieces, he couldn't help but feel enraged about it. That is, until he saw the culprit was Owen, and he piped down and dissipated his anger.

"Sorry, sir…" Owen said, as he stared at the broken pieces all around him, "It just slipped from my hands…"

He got down to his knees, and Xanatos followed after him. "It's ok." He said, helping him clean up a bit. "Accidents happen."

He suddenly felt Owen's gaze upon him. Chuckling awkwardly, he asked, "What?"

Owen stared at him and said, "Nothing, I suppose."

"Nothing?" he repeated, "Come on. Tell me."

"It's just…" he said, "It's just that I don't believe I remember you helping me before."

Xanatos just looked down on the floor, as to not show the embarrassment that burned his face. "Of course I've helped you before," he said when he pulled himself together, "You just don't remember…"

Owen shot him a dubious look, "You're not lying to me, are you?"

__

Another reason to feel like shit, he thought, because, let's face it, it was an absolutely lie. He didn't remember himself helping Owen, ever. He usually left it to Owen to handle…even though it was sometimes more serious than this. 

When one got to think about it, Owen had been very decent to him, and Xanatos hadn't made much to pay him back. He couldn't help but think back to that incident with the Cauldron of Life, where Owen had lost his left fist, how incredibly uncaring had been his response. "That'll be all, Owen." that's what he said, and it sounded so cold now.

He cleared his throat and said, "Would you like to go to that trip to Boston with me?" Xanatos asked rather cheerfully to his blond assistant, who in turn was very perplexed about it.

"I thought you didn't want me to go." Owen replied.

"Changed my mind…" the millionaire replied, "You're not upset about this morning, right?"

Owen seemed to think about it. "And that's supposed to make it _ok_?" He replied, not very warmly. No, not warmly at all.

Xanatos caught his tone and replied, "Let bygones be bygones, all right?"

The blond retorted seriously, "Wasn't I forced into a vacation only yesterday? You thought I wasn't good enough. What made you change your mind?"

The way he said it made Xanatos feel extremely uncomfortable. Perhaps Owen was more hurt than he thought he was.

"I just… don't want you to be upset." Xanatos replied, though he thought that ship had sailed with that look in Owen's eyes. He was being so (chilly?) about it. Not very welcoming. Not very pleasant. Rude, even. "I'm just asking for a chance." The millionaire continued.

His assistant shot him a wary glance. "A chance?" He seemed to think about it.

"Are you…" he continued, somewhat clumsily, though he made his best to hide it, "…upset with me?"

Owen thought about it and replied, "I'm not."

"Oh…" the millionaire sighed, with a small degree of relief. "You know," he continued. "I meant it."

"Meant what?"

"About getting you upset." He looked up, "I don't want you to be upset. I mean it. Anything you want, you say it, all right."

"_Any_thing?" the other repeated. "Am I really that important to you?"

"Of course!" he quickly retorted, "Don't you ever think otherwise."

Owen looked at him, really looked at him as if for the first time ever. He grinned, somewhat amused. "I want a raise."

The comment came out so suddenly, that had Xanatos been carrying a mirror around, he wouldn't have noticed that adorably shocked face. Owen himself burst into a laugh, and Xanatos went from insulted to defensive to confused to just laughing too.

Owen brightened up slightly and said, "I guess I should be thankful."

"Why?"

"I've never felt so good before." He replied with a small smile, "So… thank you, I guess."

_Well, I do what I can, _he was about to reply, but he pushed the thought away, because it wasn't particularly comforting. "I guess it's ok." He muttered.

__

Right?

But still…

As strange as it sounded, he felt he knew what should be done now. A reason to go on living, as it were.

Old man told him to give up, that Puck was gone. He would never give up, not while he still breathed. To give up was a simple, crisp _no_; not now, not ever, not until he made it right. He owed Puck that much and he would battle for that, not so different from someone in penitence for his sins. 

Owen had given him a second chance, unconsciously or not, and he was going to take it. He had failed him with the orb, he had failed him in the office, but he wouldn't fail now.

He was there to make up. That was it. It was as simple as shaving cream. He was to give him solace while he found the proper spell that would make it ok. To make up for old and new sins. That was it. It was as simple as cherry pie.

CHAPTER FOUR**  
**_~ Dumb little things ~_

As unbelievable as it sounded, Xanatos was actually getting accustomed to the situation. It was like a habit that once one got into it, it was easier every time you did it. It slipped into the routine so easily one almost didn't notice. It was so that one could be surprised as to what a long way it had come while one wasn't looking.

"Come out, come out! We haven't all day here."

From behind the closed door, the other yelled, "But it's early…Give me five more minutes…"

Xanatos grunted and said, "Fine, 5 more minutes." The millionaire began to pace in front of the bedroom's door. He paced and paced, and paced some more. "You're taking longer than Fox!"

"Five more minutes…"

He kept pacing for more than five minutes. Heck, fifteen minutes had passed when his assistant had the decency to get out of bed; and it took him another fifteen minutes to get ready.

"Sorry. My alarm clock didn't ring."

Xanatos shot him a look, "We're going to be late because of you."

"I'm sure you can make those executives understand, right?"

"It's happening too frequently. _Please_ try to be up early." Xanatos said. _God, another excuse. This is getting so embarrassing…_

Like yesterday, when Owen asked for some time off to do God-knows-what. He had to make up excuses to other executives about why he didn't show up to that meeting. Even though they were swamped with work, he just let him go. It was foolish. He needed to get Owen to get his act together. But still…

The blond smiled pleasantly and said, "Forgive me, David. But thank you for being so understanding with me. I really appreciate it."

Even though the meeting was really important, and he had a billion things to say, he simply kept quiet after hearing his assistant. Xanatos simply let it slide. It was just a little thing.

However, the price of letting little things slide was that he was beginning to let bigger things slide, though otherwise he wouldn't have done so. He suddenly felt swamped with work and just so overwhelmed. Not much as physically, but mentally overwhelmed. He had a nagging feeling, as if he had gone off a trip and left the iron on, or the water running, or the back door unlocked.

But still…

Now they were over an hour late, thanks to the hellish traffic jam. Owen didn't seem too disturbed, while Xanatos was already embarrassed. They were supposed meet him there at 9 am, but it was now 10, and he felt so _lousy_ for that…

When they got there, he practically ran to the elevator, dragging Owen by one arm, when they bumped into someone Xanatos had rather not bump.

"Xanatos. Better late than never." Dominique Destine –the same person known in other circles as simply Demona– gave a little smirk. "Don't bother. It's all over Xanatos."

"What do you mean, my human-hating friend?" he retorted sarcastically.

"Read 'em and weep, beard boy." She said as gave him a yellow folder.

He gave them a quick look and his face dropped. "This is bullshit!" the millionaire exclaimed.

She just grinned at him, with a what-fools-these-mortals-be air that would've made Puck proud, had he been in a better mental state. "It's all in the contract, Xanatos. It clearly states that those cargo units had to be there by midnight. They never arrived. So," she said with a smile, "we're suing you for 8 million."

David Xanatos shot a desperate 'help-me' look to the one in Puck's place, Owen, who said, "This can't be right, Destine. I read the contract, and there is no such clause."

"Oh, don't try to pass yourself as the victim, Xanatos." Demona told him, "And don't play stupid, Burnett," she said to the blond, "You read the contract, you knew what you were getting into, so why deny it? This is a simple case of a violation of contract."

"I don't believe it. I don't." Xanatos affirmed. "She's lying, isn't she Owen?"

"Well, obviously. I don't remember reading anything about a deadline." He replied.

"Xanatos," said Demona. "That's the price you pay for being late. Please, just pay the fine. Honestly, this would go a lot faster if you had showed up on time."

"Well, I demand to see that contract right now. I refuse to believe this!"

"Don't look at me," Demona said, "Owen's the one with the contract." All looks turned to the blond, who searched in his briefcase for the papers. "_Well_?" she exclaimed.

"Sorry, sir. It's not here. It was just in my desk this morning…" Owen retorted.

"It would be better if Mr. Burnett had brought the damned thing with him!"

"Don't worry. I trust your memory, Owen. I _know_ a deadline wasn't in the contract." Xanatos replied, "Heck, I'll even run back to get the contract just to prove it…"

Hence, they had to go back to the castle, and it was an hour-long ride, for New York was the Mecca of traffic jams.

" 'Just on the desk', he says… 'just on the desk!' " Xanatos muttered to himself. He searched most of the file cabinet, turned his office upside down, gave a frustrated cry, and started over again. And when he found it, he cried, "What the hell is this!?"

"That would be the contract, sir."

"I know it's the contract!! But what's it **_say!?_**"

Owen took the paper and read it silently. "I think it's the paper Demona talked about. The one saying Nightstone would be suing us if we didn't show up with the cargo by the dateline. Which happened to be yesterday." He looked up to his master and added, "Oops. I suppose I should've read the fine print." 

He could've choked him.

Not because he lost 8 billion, but because now he had to go back to Demona's office and say she was _right_, and lose his dignity. That hurt _so damned much_…

Had Owen been anyone else, Xanatos would've fired him on the spot. _Had_ he be been anyone else.

So he just kept quiet.

He didn't have the energy to go back there and humiliate himself, so he just called Demona on the phone. She smirked, she laughed, she hurled all the smart-assed comments she had always wanted to say, and Xanatos had to swallow his pride to not say something back.

But he kept quiet.

Small incidents like those repeated themselves over the next few weeks. Sometimes they were bigger than, like that unfortunate run-in with the cops, sometimes it was small things, like misplacing a pen. And because they weren't really life-threatening or earth-shattering, he kept quiet.

But there's something about the act of keeping silence that's weary, because one can only bottle up so many feelings for so much time. But he tried. Because, well, he felt rather…bad… if it occurred to him to say something. After all, it was his fault. He had no right to say anything. No rights. Only duties.

But there's something about feeling guilty that's overwhelming too. Guilt accompanied with duties, real or imagined, made an explosive package, and it was beginning to weight him down. But still.

"Come on, David," Owen would say every once in awhile, "Please cheer up. Moodiness does not suit you."

But still.

It's because in the end the dumb little things are what get you. Not the explosions, not the Quarrymen, not even your in-laws. It's the dumb little things what make you stumble. It's the little things what make you look backwards and think about all you did or stop doing.

__

It's almost ironic, he found himself thinking, _how you can get stabbed without ever picking a knife._

Of course, that wasn't even the beginning of it. All these little things were beginning to build up, signaling something, giving an idea of something…

All these dumb jigsaw pieces were building up to something and he tried to ignore it the best he could by keeping quiet and pretending they weren't there. Because the more jigsaw pieces he put together, the bigger the picture got. And the picture Xanatos was seeing wasn't good. No, not good at all.

It was even…

…frightening…

Like that night, the night Brooklyn, Broadway, Lexington and Angela charged into his office, all of them with deadpan expressions on their faces.

"What's going on?" he asked, genuinely concerned. The gargoyles, other than Goliath, hardly even showed their faces to him without a good reason. He momentarily thought the Quarrymen came back or some other disaster was about to happen.

But their reasons were far more mundane.

"Owen beat you at poker?" Xanatos said, incredulous, with a bit of annoyance and amusement in his voice.

"And he doesn't want to give our money back!" Lexington complained, "He won my Zelda game!"

After hearing their wails for awhile, the millionaire sighed and said, "Well, what did you expect? He's been playing poker since poker was invented. Let it be a lesson for you. You know there's something wrong when your opponent wins all your money on the first round. Specially if he's a thousand year old fey."

"He told us it was beginner's luck!!" Brooklyn wailed.

"And you _believed_ him?" Xanatos questioned.

"You told us he was nicer, so we assumed he wouldn't drag us through the mud like he did…" Angela commented. "Puck is gone! Why isn't he… 'nicer'?"

Xanatos considered the question for a moment. _Why would he want all the gargoyles' stuff anyway…?_ He pushed the thought away, saying aloud instead, "Because 'nice' isn't the synonym of 'stupid'." Xanatos answered matter-of-factly. "If it bothers you so much, I'll make him give it back…"

Xanatos and the four angry gargoyles charged into Owen's office, demanding retribution, or at least their money back. Owen only gave them a passing glance and said in a teasing tone, "Back for more?"

__

Aren't we confident today…? Xanatos inwardly wondered, as his assistant gave a sly smirk to the gargoyles, which in turn were broke and humiliated beyond believe.

He never humiliated the gargoyles unless he had a reason, like teaching Alex a new spell. They've been turned inside out, but he never did it for money. Then again, this new attitude took a lot of adjusting to. 

"We want our money back. Are you going to give it to us?" Brooklyn said.

"No." was the petulant response.

"Come on, Owen. They learned their lesson." Xanatos interjected.

"Why should I? I won it fairly." Owen replied, with the same petulant tone.

"Come on. Don't get petty." Xanatos responded, "There really is such thing as a poor winner…"

"Well, if you are so insistent, you could always play against me. If one of you beats me, I'll give it all back." The blond replied, "So… who'll be my opponent?"

The gargoyles pointed at Xanatos, who jumped back. "It's not like we have something left to bet…" Lexington explained. "He's _your_ assistant," he added with a whisper, "_You_ keep him in check."

"Right…" Xanatos muttered back.

"So…" Owen said with an undecipherable smile in his face. "Shall we?"

"All right then." He said, accepting the challenge. "I'll try not to beat you too badly."

"Of course." Owen replied, then added in a sotto voice, "Bring a checkbook…"

* * *

"Pick a card?"

Xanatos took a quick look at the cards in his hands. A five, three tens, a two. Crummy cards. He tried not to look too disgusted, after all, wasn't the life of a CEO like a game of cards? One should never let his opponent find out what he had. Really, really crappy cards.

He shot a discreet look towards his assistant. The downside of playing with Owen was that one never knew what the hell he was up to. He was as calm as ever. Xanatos had no idea what went through his head before the accident, and he had even less of a chance of knowing now. Ditto for his alter ego. Both of 'them' were a box of surprises. So he gave no hint whatsoever about what were his cards.

"Well?" Owen told him.

He tossed aside the two and the five, and took two cards from the pack. _Please be a ten, please be a ten…_ he chanted to himself then picked the card. It was a ten of spades and a nine of diamonds.

"This is the absolute last game, Mr. Xanatos," Owen told him as he tossed and picked two cards for himself. "I have to wake up early tomorrow."

"I told you already. I'm not giving up without a fight." Xanatos replied. "I'll see to your Rolex with…" he thought about it, "Fox's Rolex."

The blond arched an eyebrow. "_Fox's_ Rolex?" he repeated.

"I'm sure she'll understand…" Xanatos retorted.

Owen gave him a shady smile and said, "What'd you got?"

Xanatos held on to his two pairs of ten like a lifeboat. After losing all of the gargoyles' stuff and his own Rolex, he _better_ win. _Here goes nothing…_he thought as he said, "Two pairs of tens. What about you?"

Owen gave him a small smiled and declared, "Two pairs of kings. You lose." And couldn't help but add, "Again." 

After that spectacular lost, he began to mutter to himself. It was Unbelievable. Beaten by the help. _I never knew he was so good at poker…I never knew he was so greedy too…_A more serious thought took over. _Goddamnit, I lost my wife's watch…!_ And he did it with such style and grace, he had to declare, "You invented poker, didn't you?"

Owen looked at him with those perfect blue eyes of his and said, "Don't be such a sore loser. It happens." He paused to admire all the clutter in the table, "Let's see… the CD player, the watches, the gargoyles' things…" Owen recounted to himself. "Amazing. Sometimes I scare myself."

"You don't say…" Xanatos continued sarcastically. "Let's go one more time for $400."

"Are you sure? I'll beat you again, you know that." Then Owen gave him a small smile and said, "Are you sure you have enough to pay me back?" 

Xanatos scoffed, "_Excuse me_? Who do you think I am?" 

"I was just wondering… after all, 5 lost rounds in a row are no laughing matter." Owen replied.

As the blond shuffled the cards, Xanatos sighed and said, "Owen, we have to talk."

"About what?" Owen asked innocently enough.

"About you, actually." Xanatos replied.

"This is not about the orb thing again, right?"

"No, this about your attitude problem." The millionaire retorted seriously.

The blond arched an eyebrow and said, "Attitude problem? What attitude problem?" Owen asked back. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"_That_ attitude problem." Xanatos told him, "Look, I'm your friend and all… but…I don't know how to say this… but you're getting very sloppy at work and—"

"Sloppy?" he interrupted, "Is this a joke? Just what are you trying to say?" he said harshly.

With sudden intensity, "That maybe you should get your act together!" the millionaire snapped, more off-handed that he meant.

Owen perked up, looking at him with those eerie eyes, like a child that had been denied something and was ready to make the offender pay. Xanatos' burst hung in the air for a moment. A beat. Neither said anything.

Then Xanatos stepped away from it. "I mean…" he added sheepishly, "it's just…I'm supportive and all but—"

"You're getting tired." Owen finished, but he didn't seem angry about it. "I'm sorry you feel that way." He continued, but he could hear a note of sarcasm in his voice. "Is that all you have to say?"

"No, I'm not done," he said, insulted. "I want you to stop being so harsh, all right? You could stop teasing the gargoyles, for one thing."

"I'm not teasing the gargoyles," he said, "I can't help it if they don't have a sense of humor." Owen replied casually.

"I'm getting comments from the clan… And come on! You _stripped_ them of money in a poker game…!" Xanatos replied.

Owen looked up, and with a slight smirk, he said, "How could I not? It was too easy." Out of the blue, he added, "They're fools."

Xanatos couldn't help but arch an eyebrow. "That's what I'm saying, that's harsh! So stop it!"

"They _are_ fools. Prancing around like superheroes— Demona's right when she says humanity won't accept them. And it's morally wrong to allow fools to keep their money."

"But that's so… cold, don't you think?"

"Simply the cold hard facts. Don't blame me if it hurts."

"But what about hope?"

"What _about _hope?"

"I don't know– that maybe someday humans will come around? That maybe someday, humans will be mature enough to understand what's different?"

Owen gave him a look and said, "Do you _really_ believe that?"

"Sure, why not?"

The blond gave a small scoff and said, "Then I don't know why nobody has beaten you before. You try too hard to be good ever since Alex was born." The blond responded factually. "It shows. Or maybe it shows to _me_. I know you very well. You should quit trying to be a 'good' person. All you've done is cuddle the gargoyles."

The millionaire perked up, "What's so wrong with trying to make amends?"

"That the affected party will never forget. Ever." He replied, with such a tone that gave Xanatos the creeps. 

"But you can make it better… can't you?"

Owen looked at him and said, "They'll never forget. It's a fact. They won't forget as long as they live. What's the point then?" then added, "That's what I think. A thesis, as if it were. Cruel, yes, but that's life. Forgiveness, sometimes, it's not an option." He gave him a cold, enigmatic smile, "You disappoint me sometimes."

"Why?"

Owen never answered the question, and as Xanatos would recall lying half-dead in his crashed car against a lamppost somewhere, he wouldn't have like the answer anyway. Xanatos never asked twice about it. Instead, he went to sleep. Not much as sleep as just tossing and turning in his bed, waiting for death or sleep to claim him.

Then later, he sat alone, in front of the refrigerator, picking out something to snack on, though eventually it all ended up back in the fridge.

__

Forgiveness… isn't that what I'm trying to achieve…? If he doesn't believe in forgiveness, then how am I going to sleep at night…? Something darker took over. _I've assumed he doesn't remember about the orb…but what if he does? Was that Puck talking? _

Talking about never forgiving me…

Gloomy thoughts and cold chicken weren't his idea of a good night's sleep, so he opted to stop thinking about it. It didn't work, of course; the more he tried to push it away, the more he thought about it. 

And the more he thought about it, the more he could see The Big Picture. And, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, _it frightened him out of his wits…_

"He'll understand. Puck will understand. He will understand and everything will be all right again…"

CHAPTER FIVE**  
**_~ All the King's Men ~ _

Though he tried to ignore it, he was still upset about it. He tried and, boy, did he try, but it bothered him like heck. 

"Are you all right, David?"

"Just fine, Owen. I'm fine." He replied, too distracted.

"Do we have anything else today? If not, we could go out."

"Where?"

"I don't know. Out."

"I don't really feel like celebrating."

It was stupid, really.

Fox had asked him to buy something for Alex; sheets she told him, but he had forgotten about it. Well, no. He knew he had to buy something but he didn't know what. It was one of those things.

His first stop was Macy's. 

He found no choice but to go out to buy the 'whatchamacallit', though he still couldn't remember what it was. Even without a clue, he felt he needed to go out; for Owen's sake, even if Owen himself wasn't thrilled about it. Not thrilled, just plain annoyed.

"Why do I have to tag along?" he complained.

"Because I need a bodyguard," Xanatos told him; because he felt it was the most reasonable explication he could give. After all, Owen couldn't argue that such a rich man like himself didn't need protection.

As for why he was bothering to bother Owen, Xanatos wasn't sure either. It was as vague as the whatchamacallit he was looking for. What he hoped to achieve, well, he wasn't sure yet.

Hence, he headed blindly to look for Alex's whatchamacallit at Macy's, wondering to himself what was he looking for and trying to ignore Owen's outright molested attitude.

An attitude that got more and more obvious once they headed to the toy part of the store. "Let's see… if I were Alex, what would I like?" he mumbled to himself as he inspected the toys; everything from pandas to Power Rangers. "It was something about cars and dinosaurs…"

Owen leaned against one of the aisles. "Why not buy them all?"

"No, Fox said to buy something specific…" Xanatos continued to mutter. "What do you think? Cars or dinosaurs?"

"You choose." The blond said indifferently, "He's _your_ son."

It was a truly intimidating feeling that which his assistant projected this morning. The only thing he knew was that he was annoyed, it was obvious. As for anything else, he had no idea — as usual. 

Alex was the light of his eyes, but he could tell he was quite annoyed. His eyes didn't shine so bright as before. No, they weren't shinning at all.

It was… 

…scary…

Then he asked, tentatively, "You do remember my boy… right?", slightly panicked at the thought that maybe Owen had forgotten about his bond with Alex, because if he ever forgot something like that…

"Of course," Owen quickly replied, "Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, I guess you simply can't forget things like that…" the millionaire replied more relieved.

Owen gave him a confused gaze. "Things like…?"

Xanatos stared. "You know. Alex and you."

"Alex? And he means _what_ to me…?"

… and he did forget about that, and Xanatos felt his hopes sinking… he stared at him wounded‚ disappointed, even betrayed… "I just thought you'd know… remember, the very least…" then added in a whisper, "… it was very important to you…"

"Alexander? Important?" he said, and with a small scoff, he added, "why would he be so important to me?"

That hurt. That hurt a lot. As if somebody had shot him or as if he had broken an arm in a car accident somewhere.

"So, are we going to buy your son's 'whatchamacallit' after all?" Owen continued indifferent.

"Yeah…" Xanatos affirmed, more to himself than his assistant

"Why don't we go home, ask Fox, and come back another day?" Owen continued.

"Because I want to do it today." Xanatos replied, because he didn't know what else to say. "So help me God, I'll search every toy store in the city till I find what I'm looking for…"

"…and have no idea what it is…" Owen wisecracked to himself.

Xanatos chose to let it slide. _What do I want to achieve, anyway?_ He wondered as he aimlessly began to walk around the store.

* * *

That lack of concern about Alex was beginning to bother him a lot. The nagging feeling refused to go away. Never mind how rude Owen had acted, his response about Alex brought to light another unpleasant question… 

So he decided to do a little experiment.

While checking some new robotic advances a few stories down, he dragged Alex with them to look at the shiny robots. Making some petty chitchat with his son, he said, "You know, daddy once had a robot that looked like him, did I tell you about it?"

Alex's heart wasn't into the conversation. Neither was Owen. In fact, Alex shot his uncle wary looks, and Owen looked at him as if… as if he were something alien.

Xanatos, for once, didn't know what to do next. It was bewildering, because he _always_ knew what to do… but now it seemed thing had plotted against him and for once… He felt out of control. And that was really, really bothering him.

A nice doctor named Watson or something was babbling on about nano technology or something similar, but the millionaire was focusing on some sort of silent exchange between the teacher and the protégé.

Alex was in Xanatos' arms, his short arms holding his daddy by the neck to the point of almost choking him. Owen gave the two a few casual glances that Xanatos couldn't make out… but there was something sincerely sinister about him.

A few minutes into his oh-so-exciting speech, Dr Watson said, "Would you three gentlemen like to see a demonstration?"

Still clinging to his neck, Alex mumbled almost inaudibly, "I wanna go home…"

Xanatos shifted uncomfortably and said, "Well, I would certainly like to see it. Owen," he turned to his assistant and said in a tone that some would've called unsure, "Why don't you take Alex upstairs, he's obviously bored."

Owen merely stared at him. And then he smiled eerily. "All right." He gave the boy a look, "I'll take him upstairs."

Alex turned to his daddy, and stared at him wide-eyed, so bewildered, so _terrified_ he was at lost of words. His eyes filled with tears and he started mumbling, "No, I don't wanna go with him! Don't let him, daddy!"

He stared wailing so loudly that everyone's heads turned their way. Watson gave the threesome a perplexed look and asked, "Was it something I said…?"

"He's just being a brat." Owen mumbled bored. "I'll take him…"

"**_Don't you touch me!_**" Alex yelled at the top of his lungs, "**_Don't touch me, don't touch me! Keep away!_**"

He jumped off his father's arms, and tried to make a getaway to the nearest exit, which happened to be the emergency staircase. Alex opened the gray door with red bold letters, making the security alarm activate in the laboratory and all the red signals in the consoles flare up. In the lab, all normal lights turned off, but the red ones signaling gave the darker place an eerie look.

Owen was after him in a heartbeat, while Xanatos was still staggering around confused, as all the scientists in the place panicked and started barking orders. But then he focused and saw Owen opened the door again, and he soon followed.

The millionaire reached the duo when they were racing down the stairs, with an amazing speed, already several stories down. He too raced through the stairs, but it was confusing, because running down so many steps so quickly, and in such a spiral staircase, was making him dizzy, until the point he lost them and only saw the gray steps.

Somehow, with the feeling of confusing already settling in, he managed to make it ok on a few floors, but he eventually tripped over. He ended up on his knees next to a door marked 'Thirtieth floor' --quite a feat, since the lab where they had just being was on the fiftieth floor.

Unbelievably exhausted, Xanatos leaned on the railing and look down, to catch a glimpse of Owen finally grabbing his child by the arm. But Alex seized the stairs railing and refused to let it go. Owen jerked his nephew towards him with intentions of hauling him up the stairs. Alex stubbornly held onto the railing.

"Get up." Owen ordered. Alex looked away from him and held on stronger, "I said, **_get up_**!"

Xanatos wanted to say something, but his tiredness and his forty years suddenly fell on him and weighted him down at the same time. Owen could handle Alex. He really needed to sit down.

But then he heard Owen yelled, "**_Get up, you little bastard_**!"

Xanatos blinked. All his strength was miraculously restored to him. He stood up in a beat and heard someone yell, "_Owen**!?**_" And it was voiced with such sentiment that it took Xanatos awhile to recognize _his_ own voice and realize _he_ was the one who said it.

Owen ignored the millionaire, and focused on his charge, murder on his eyes. "I know what you are!" Alex gasped, for a moment letting go of the railing, "I know what you're not! Go away, you…you…"

Still several floors up, Xanatos could see his assistant' lips move, but couldn't hear what he said.

But Alex's eyes said it all… his little blue eyes grew wide and he took a step backwards…

Then his uncle let him go. And because Alex had let go of the railing a moment before, he lost his balance and fell backwards…

Words just flashed on Xanatos' mind: _He let him go…_

Alex looked like a mannequin as he rolled down the stairs, _thud-thud-thud_, until he stopped when he landed on the plain concrete. He was well enough to start crying so loudly that he must've been heard all through the building.

__

He let him go…

Xanatos got up to his feet with an astonishing speed, with a strength that came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time; he almost flew those steps and pushed his —that man out of his way and reached Alex under thirty seconds.

__

He let him go…

"Don't leave me" — "Always" — "Never" and thousands of things were spoken almost at the same time. And both parent and child stared at that… man…and they looked at each other and they didn't say anything at all. Not to him. Not to each other.

No. There was nothing left to say.

* * *

__

He let him go…

"…Read me a story, daddy…" Alex had whispered him that night.

Grabbing a random book, Xanatos ended up with Mother Goose. "Are rhymes ok?"

"Uncle Puck always used to tell me rhymes. He usually made them up." Alex muttered quietly.

Cautiously, Xanatos put down the book. He wanted to say something important, something inspiring, something to make him feel better. He wanted to say something Alex would remember forever. But the only thing he could say was "I'm sorry."

Alex's answer had been devastatingly simple: "I know."

Xanatos felt that pressing knot in his stomach and slowly said, "What'd you…" he staggered, "What can you… make out…about your uncle? You…" he tilted his head just so, "You know him better than I do…maybe you can…help?"

Alex just stared. "That's not my uncle." He shrugged softly, "I mean, I don't think so…" He whispered, "It's weird… he is…yet he isn't… I don't like it…I don't like the way he feels. I don't wanna talk about it."

Xanatos' tone dropped to an even subtler one. Trying to act cajoling, he said, "Come on, Alex. Try to explain it to daddy…" Measuring his words, he continued, "How do you feel about him? You know… what can you tell from him?"

Alex clutched his teddy bear and mumbled, "I really, really don't wanna talk about it…"

"Look, it's ok to tell me." his father continued, "It would be even helpful for Uncle if you told me what you know. Maybe it could help to make him better…"

"Then Uncle Puck would come back?" Alex looked up, ever-so-hopeful.

For a minute indecisive, he answered, "Yes. But you have to tell me what you know."

Alex clutched his teddy bear harder. "Well," he began, "…I don't know how to say it…" He was visibly trying to come up with the rights words in his somewhat limited vocabulary, "It's like he'll do… _anything_. Whatever he feels like it." He shrugged sadly, "…or something like that… I sort of heard his mind in the robot place…" he whispered, "I could hardly make it out but… He owes you nothing, daddy. And you owe nothing of him." He tried to hide a sniffle, "I don't think he likes you, daddy."

Tentatively too, Xanatos chose his next question carefully, "And… what did he tell you at the stairs before you…?" he trailed off.

The boy closed his eyes and mumbled, "Read me a story, daddy. But not Humpty Dumpty. The king's men couldn't put him together." He opened his eyes and looked at Xanatos straight in the eye. "You're a king too, aren't you?"

* * *

__

He let him go…

The full implications of what happened didn't hit him until sometime later. In fact, after tucking in Alex, he had gone right ahead and helped Fox with the dishes, chatted with Goliath for awhile, exchanged some insults with Elisa and bid them all goodnight.

For such a reputed martial artist, such a master of subterfuge, such a grand tactical mastermind of the business world, David Xanatos was _slow_. It was partially his fault, because he had so far entertained himself by doing menial housework and he did so on purpose.

But then the gargoyles were gone and Fox went to bed and he found himself with nothing to do.

__

Then, ah! and _only_ then did it all come down on him.

He _knew_. He repeated the incident a couple of times in his memory, just to make sure, but he already knew. Owen had been right in front of Alex. Right in front of him. If he had wanted, he could've reached out. He could've! **_He could've!_**

As far as Xanatos could tell, the floor was sinking with every step he took. He couldn't make it out. For the love of God, he couldn't make _him_ out.

He spent a good deal of the night just pacing in his office, trying to clear things up.

__

I don't know, I don't know… why is Owen acting like that? What has really happened to Puck? It doesn't make any sense, Owen shouldn't be here either, because Owen is Puck and Puck is Owen and Owen can't exist without Puck and…

He was giving himself a nasty headache. He only knew that he knew nothing. It felt as if all his assumptions were being challenged that night.

He flopped in his chair and half-heartedly played Solitaire in his computer. Actually, he just sat in front of his computer looking at nowhere in specific. _Who are you, Owen? Who are you really?_

"Am I interrupting something, Mr. Xanatos?" That eerie voice suddenly asked.

Xanatos bolted upright and accidentally knocked a few dozen papers off his desk. "Uh, what? No, it's ok… I'm just…" he picked the papers off the floor and added, "…Finishing some things."

"Hmm." Owen smiled pleasantly and handled him a yellow folder, "Here's a small summary about Dr Watson's work. Most promising, I think." Then added, "Is he alright?"

"Who?"

"Alex."

Xanatos just stared. "What'd _you_ care?" he said, with more bitterness than he had meant. _But damn_! **_Damn!_**

The other blinked. "What are you talking about?"

He jumped to his feet in a beat, "**_You know what I'm talking about_**!" The whole situation was actually making the great David Xanatos lose it the same way anyone could lose a pen, because it was just there and it wasn't anymore. "Why do **_you care_**!? No, _really_! _Explain_ it to me, because I don't get it! What'd _you_ care? You didn't **_do_** anything! You just stood there!" He stretched his right arm at an imaginary staircase, the whole thing replaying in his mind, and he laughed incredulously at the image only he could see, "You just stood there and did nothing!" He shook his head, eyes still lost, "**_Nothing_**!"

Owen just stared.

The other returned to the present, and tired, so tired, he flopped on his chair again. "What do you want me to do?" he said, "Tell me and I'll do it!" With some new passion, he added, "What do you want me to do?" He slammed a hand on his desk, "_What do you want me to do!?_" 

The blond just looked at him with an expression that is not called hatred, love or indifference; it was the look those avid poker players recognized as nothing at all. And because in the end, glory, love and knowledge mean nothing in the middle of a raving storm that called all the shots, Xanatos couldn't see anything in those eyes. 

"Well, aren't you going to _say something_?!" Xanatos shouted frustrated.

After a few seconds: "Good night, Mr. Xanatos." And he turned away from him and began to walk away.

"_Don't you dare turn your back to me_!" The other snapped in a beat. He took a big gasp of air. "You see, I'm trying to talk you…" he tried to explain as rationally as he could, "I'm trying to get to know you, and you…you walk _away_… I've wanted to ask you so many things, but you… can't you _pretend_ to care, just for a little while?"

Owen turned his face for just a moment: "No."

He went from shocked to sad to upset to just furious, "**Fine! Then walk away or drop dead, I don't give a damn!**"

The blond gave him a look, one last quiet look, before silently walking away as if they had just been chatting about business.

That man might as well _be_ that raving storm, a force that always cheats on its game, and if you're the unlucky opponent, well, that's too bad, ain't that sad, ain't that a crying shame, ain't that just so darn tragic?

Isn't the storm the most sarcastic force of nature you've ever encountered? Human courage and foolhardiness mean next to thing for them. Forces of nature have a sense of irony, and they politely snicker behind your back, not loudly, but softly, as if not hurt your feelings _too_ much. 

David Xanatos thought he heard a soft snicker in the back of his mind.

He got an awful, awful feeling that stranger was playing him for a fool.

* * *

He wouldn't remember how did the argument end, but the last thing he recalled of that night was staring at his computer monitor showing the stills of an electronic solitaire that hadn't moved for hours.

Everything had become blurry when he walked in. The computer, the desk, the potted plant. In the end, everything looked the same. Not happy, but not sad either. He sighed. Everything felt so pointless that night. All he ever wanted to do was sleep.

With that thought, he accommodated his papers the best he could to create a pillow and rested his head on them, in hopes of forgetting about everything… at least until morning.

"Daddy?"

Xanatos groaned. He raise his head from the papers, blinked several times and saw Alex stand there by the doorway. He was waiting for him, shifting uncomfortably, and clutching his teddy bear. The millionaire mumbled something unintelligibly that sounded like, "What?"

Alex opened his mouth and closed it again. "I don't know how to say it…I…" he shook his head. Suddenly decisive, he said, "I know what you think. I know what he thinks. I heard it, I…" He shook his head, "He's not _dead_…" he said, somewhat absurdly, "He's just…" he smiled just a little, "He's just _sleeping_…" with a very 'isn't-that-the-most-obvious-thing-in-the-world' tone.

Xanatos blinked.

"You're going at it the wrong away. He will never understand. Go over him, daddy. He will never understand. You gotta talk to the one that'll understand."

"Understand?" Xanatos repeated.

The boy nodded, "Understand." He smiled for a moment, "Are you gonna do it?"

His father grunted again, "Do what?"

The boy frowned, "You _said_ you'd do it. Are you gonna stay there all night or _do_ it?"

He blinked perplexed.

Alexander's features dropped in disappointment. He shook his head contemptuously and said, "You are such a **_liar_**!"

Still perplexed, Xanatos muttered, "Why…?"

"Because you _ARE_ a **_LIAR_**!" the boy snapped back.

He felt a tickle in his back, a shudder, like cold fingers running down his spine. And for a moment, a very brief moment, Xanatos though he saw something out of the corner of his eye… a rhyme leaped to mind…

__

I thought I saw upon the stairs, a little man who wasn't there. He wasn't there again today. Oh, how I wish he'd go away…

He blinked and Alex was gone.

CHAPTER SIX**  
**_~ Spinning forms ~_

For a few days, everything just hung in the air.

Alas, Owen did not walk away, or even dropped dead, much his chagrin. Owen didn't give the incident with Alex any thought, not the next morning, not for the rest of the week. He was beginning to get on his employer's nerves. Owen's attitude and the affairs of the real world were giving him… what did Goliath called it?… 'Stress'.

__

So that's how the little people go about their days? How do they live!? He silently pondered.

It was unbelievable. Twenty years he trotted the world looking for trouble without breaking a sweat. Now stupid investors meetings were getting the better of him. 

Never mind those two times Owen walked out of a meeting because he was 'bored'. Or how he told off a bald executive with a few charming words Xanatos never thought he'd actually _say_.

Or how he brushed off his own boss when pressed over the matter. Or how he apologized… insincerely… to him sometime later. "I'm _sorry_, David," he said, tainted with mockery, "You're absolutely right. You can't blame people for being idiots." He smiled to him, and said with a teasing tone, "You see, I think it's _genetic_…"

Xanatos stopped listening to what people said in their meeting; he often sat on the back, looked over Owen and prayed to the Powers That Be that he wouldn't try anything strange that day. 

Sometimes he hated him, sometimes he even admired him. Xanatos instinctively admired people that got their way by stepping on other people. Alas, Xanatos loathed him for the same reason, because the one that Owen stepped over most of the time was _he_.

And that was how the blue-eyed demon lived. Without excuses. Without pretenses. Without embraces or resentments. Without the things that bind together or tear apart.

He didn't know how to deal with that stranger. He had long given up trying to reason with whoever he was supposed to be. But he already knew how he acted. And he had already gotten used to his impulses. He _had_ to get used to it. It wasn't like there was something else to _do_. 

But sometimes Owen would get dangerously close to Xanatos' explosive buttons, made even more sensible after those last few weeks' occurrences. That was the problem with dragging trouble for weeks and weeks. Any dumb little thing can set the bomb on fire.

Unfortunately, the thing that made the proverbial shit hit the fan wasn't a dumb little thing; this was a somewhat complicated, medium-to-large sort of thing that made all the dominos fall down in one swift move.

It was to be expected, really.

It all had started a few days ago. It was a merger with Iomega, a software company. He had told him a thousand times, "Don't forget to call the people, please don't forget the people." Owen had assured him he would call, that he would be there on time, that everything would be all right.

He 'forgot'.

How could he possibly forget after drilling him constantly about it, Xanatos had no idea. He wasn't too upset, because he felt too guilty to feel upset. But the feeling hadn't gone away. All it got was stronger; perhaps because it was reaching the tip on the iceberg. He _tried_ to be nice, he _tried_, but losing 329 billions and the technology of the future was really getting to him.

Did Owen feel bad about it? Absolutely not. The man felt nothing for his master's problems. The millionaire had no idea what was going through his mind —as usual— but he knew that there were no feelings toward him. None at all. Not only did he felt enraged about it… but it was also… unsettling…

Owen felt nothing.

It wasn't unsettling, _it was scary_.

He tried to explain it calmly. "Have you any idea how much money was going down on the Iomega merger?"

"329.7 billion dollars." He replied, "Why?"

He tried not to yell _too_ loudly, but he couldn't help himself, "Because you made me lose _329.7 billion dollars_! Have you any idea how much that is!?"

Owen had never looked so distant before. "Lots of money, right? You've got plenty. Why more? It's not like you use it; it'll only rot in your Swiss banking account."

Xanatos felt like having a nervous breakdown. It's one thing to have a junior executive mess up, another one entirely to have the closest thing for best friend for almost twenty years screw you out of a deal like that.

In a moment of insanity, he snapped the first thing that came to mind, "You're **_fired_**!" And when he saw that look on Owen's face, he wished he hadn't spoken at all.

"Fired?" he said incredulously, looking at him intently with those blue eyes, "How can you even _say_ that?"

Xanatos closed his eyes and made a little prayer, _Please, don't let him say it…I'll do _anything_…!_

"…after all I've **_done_** for you!"

The millionaire groaned and brought his hands to his face, "…he said it…"

Any moment now, he would snap at him. Bad enough he felt guilty about it, Owen would chew him out and have all the right to do so.

Actually, Xanatos didn't feel _that_ guilty after all. In his heart of hearts, he would've liked Owen to _stay_ fired. Of course, he couldn't just ask him to pack his bags. He _did_ tell the gargoyles he wouldn't 'bail out' on him. And everything _was_ his fault. The least he could do was try to make the best of him —if only for the perverse pleasure of shutting Elisa up.

And Owen had been his… ally. He had been a normal person before Xanatos screwed it up, so he owed him that much. It was the least he could do for him. Then again, he would've done him a better service if he had sent him with a one-way ticket to Hawaii…

But. Butbutbut.

He hurried put on his best apologetic face and a fake smile and said, "I don't mean it, you know that…" He looked up to his assistant —a Chinese puzzle he never had the patience to figure out— and noticed him upset. Because he was angered? Annoyed? Hurt?

__

Probably annoyed. And angered. But hurt? You gotta break his arm to hurt him, Xanatos concluded. _And I bet it wouldn't even bother him._ _Yeah, I know this guy…I bet any moment now he'll say…_

"Of course you don't," the other continued, absentmindedly looking away, "No one ever really means it. No one ever really cares." He sighed, almost sad, "Of course you don't mean it. Of course."

Just when he thought he figured him out, he had to go ahead and say something like that. Owen's features softened somewhat. Something that was there; something that had been missing those last few weeks. Then it him.

For the first time in two weeks, Owen looked sincerely upset. More than that. It was the first time he seemed _honestly_ _sincere_ at _anything_ since that stupid orb shattered. In the dark office, with the desk lamp and the computer screen shinning just so, his assistant almost looked…human.

Just thinking about the little joke about Hawaii made him feel _bad_.

"Look, I'm sorry…" he began, then ran out of words.

"…after all I've done for you…" Owen continued, mesmerized, "…this is how it ends…" His humanity was more bewitching and far more exotic than those eerie blue eyes. "I never expected you to…" he trailed off, "You're only human. I know you. I know you very well. And I just want you to know…" That air about him was beginning to fade, and the coldness he had come to expect from him reemerged, "That I _never_ really expected _anything_ from _you_."

"_Wait_! Wait, don't go yet!" the other cried in sudden desperation. "Don't go yet!"

Owen took a step back as if Xanatos had completely lost his mind, "What are you doing…!?" He said quickly and alarmed, when the millionaire jumped over his desk and grabbed him by the arm.

"Don't! Don't move, don't breathe! Stay! Please, Puck, just _stay_!" Xanatos replied instead, either completely right or completely insane. "I'll make it up to you, I swear! I'll give you whatever you want, just stay!" 

What he would've given to be a mind reader. He only knew that he knew nothing. But for once he felt he was close. Owen had always been too far away from him, not since the whole thing started, but since forever, but now it felt as if they were getting somewhere. Just when he figured him out, he had surprised him again. 

E 

Owen said nothing for a moment.

"Don't stop! You were doing so well… Tell me what you want… _Please_…"

He still held him by an arm. Owen looked at it, then at its owner, and frowned. He shoved him off, "You…" he whispered, "have the nerve to ask me after all this _time_? You've lied to me since the beginning, haven't you!? You said… you said you'd do your…very best… but you didn't and you won't because…you lied to me because **_you didn't even bother to start to try!!!_**"

Xanatos took a few steps back. That had been… unexpected. And he didn't like it. He didn't like it at all.

"What do _you_ want _me_ to say, _David_?" He hissed back, as he took a few menacing steps towards him, "You want me to say that everything will be all right?! How peculiar! How _arrogant_! But it's _not_ going to happen. Because…" he dropped his voice to a more teasing, arrogant tone. "_I hate you to death._"

The last comment knocked him off his throne. But he rose again, like always, but he couldn't say he wasn't hurt. He was more hurt that he would acknowledge in that particular moment in time.

Instead, he idiotically mumbled, "You don't mean that…"

Owen looked at him with the smirk of a demon, "Oh, I mean it, alright. You have _no idea_ how much I hate you right now…" He crossed his arms and snorted, "And now the _hero_ —term used lightly— faces his worst fear. What will he do next? What strategy, what plan, what will he do now that the truth whacked him with _sledgehammer_?"

Xanatos opened his mouth but no sounds came out.

Owen sighed heavily, boringly. "Don't worry, David. Nothing you could say would change this. Lets do ourselves a favor and stay out of each other's way." He gave him an almost parental sigh, almost patronizing so, "Yes. I know what you're thinking. And yes, it's true." He shrugged, "Yes. You _are_ screwed. And no, you can't do a damn thing about it."

David Xanatos had never felt so wretched.

* * *

It had been awhile since he had watched Jerry Springer. He'd seen it once or twice, but only to see what was the big deal. All he saw were pathetic people making fools of themselves on tv. Needless to say, that sort of vulgarity was below The Richest Man of the World's standards.

The worst cases were the ones were girls found out that their husbands, boyfriends, girlfriends, or whatevers were cheating on them. The women… after the obligatory fighting and biting… would crumble down and weep for the treason.

Not just on Jerry Springer; he'd seen plenty of Fox's girlfriends caught in the same bind. Fox would talk about them over dinner, "…and I told her, why are you crying? That bastard's not worth it. Don't give him the pleasure!"

Why is it that people mourn over things that aren't worth it? Not just people, but over things too. Grandmother's antiques. Old Elvis records. John Lennon's lock of hair. A doll. A ring. A $3.99 trinket. Things of no obvious monetary value. 

He had always wondered about it; but he wondered no more.

__

Sentimental fools, that what we humans are, he concluded dryly, _clinging to things because they make us feel happy._

He spent some time rationalizing about it. And after awhile, it all made sense. It all came clear. Veils discarded, he thought he saw things for what they were for the first time in his life.

He came to the conclusion that it was all his fault. Because from every angle he saw it, it was his fault. The orb shattered; that was his fault. Demona on a rampage? That was his fault too. The mutates in the Labyrinth? You shouldn't even ask. The country has gone to hell and the deficit is choking the taxpayers? Guilty as charged!

Everything, everything was his fault, everything in the whole wide world was his fault. Everything is everything and everything was his fault. Like some dark omen prophesied by Goliath, by Fox, by just about everyone else in the castle and those MasterCard commercials; there are some things money can't buy.

Peace of mind; for starters.

And most importantly —the epitome of tonight's life lesson— he realized he had _never_ been in control. He hated being out of control, and he had been out of control from the very beginning. He thought he knew what Owen wanted, but then he realized what he had always known —absolutely nothing.

He came to the conclusion that he was being a fool, and that he'd been a fool since forever. The world is always, always full of fools, and he was The Fool. And was the worst type of fool: the Sentimental Fool.

And he started to think: _To carry on like this is quite illogical. Mr. Burnett has made his point painfully clear. To continue with this line of action would be pointless and it will only make things more painful than they need to be. Logic dictates you should admit when you're defeated and the rules of etiquette dictate one shouldn't be a sore loser. The logical course of action would be to put and end to this affair as swiftly and efficiently as possible. Don't you think so?_

But then he answered his own question: _The only problem with it is that I am not a logical creature. Being a fool is a God-given right, and I can whack myself all the times I want to because I JUST WANT TO! SO _THERE_!_

He got in one of his many-yet-sporadically-used cars, put the pedal to the metal and charged to the only place he could think of: To 'Genie in a bottle', to the old man, to the only person that could help him figure it out.

It was insane. It was 2 am and he was looking for an old man that hated his guts. He was looking for a hateful little man to check if he could help with another hateful little man.

Frustrated, David Xanatos didn't watch where he was going. With the same facility Puck's orb had shattered, he zigged when he should've zagged, and ended up crashing his sporadically used car right into a lamppost… even though logic dictated one should avoid lampposts.

CHAPTER SEVEN**_  
_**~ Swear not ~

It was an unusually quiet night in Manhattan. It seemed like a usual way to start a night, if it weren't for the fact that gargoyles lived there. The awful Hunter's Moon happened a long time ago and any great disaster concerning gargoyles and the fate of the world seemed years away.

Yet David Xanatos laid aghast inside a crumpled Ferrari crashed into a lamppost, near unconsciousness, wondering to himself what the hell was going on.

His head was spinning, and it took him awhile to realize he wasn't dead yet. For a moment, he thought he had lost an arm, but then he realized it was just broken when the pain started to get to him. Jolly.

He tried to move, and couldn't. The car was hit by the driver's side so he was completely immobilized by the lamppost blocking the door.

He just stared up to the sky, wondering how he'd get out of this one. Then he noticed something peculiar. Tonight the moon was in a quart. He shook his head, wondering if he was seeing wrong, but the moon was, in fact, a big banana.

"It does change phases. What'd you know…" he said, somewhat lightly, to them mumble in a more melancholic tone, "I shouldn't have sworn upon the moon…"

It must have been the whack on the head, because it just hit him. He just remembered the scene in Romeo and Juliet —Leo version was in the swimming pool— when Juliet asks him not to swear upon the moon.

He just remembered a conversation on the same concept sometime before. Foolish him. Why didn't he think about that before?

"Holy shit. So that's it."

"That's what was bothering him."

"Owen didn't know it… he wasn't aware of it… but Puck was always there…feeling betrayed… and manifesting himself in Owen… though they are not aware of it yet…"

Oh, my God.

He _knows_.

(…and he had always known, because once a trickster, always a trickster, and he _knew_, he _knew_, he didn't know it but he _knows_…)

He remembered… or at least some part of him remembered…the vow he made… and Xanatos himself… _had completely forgotten about it…_and now he assumed he lied about it…

He laughed with no energy.

Understanding would do him little good as long as he was stuck in the car. Things didn't seem so hopeless as before, so he could see that he still could get out of the car. He did, eventually, as he would remember a few days later, it wasn't as nearly as difficult as he thought he would be.

Now what?

The good news was that he picked a good place to crash: just outside the Eerie Building's parking lot. The bad news was that people were beginning to stare. And he didn't want that because… _Because_.

Though it would've made a lot more sense to cry out for help to the cops coming his way; he refused to wait for them. He got out of the car —with a will that bordered on pigheadedness— and told a nice security guard of his building that he was, "Just fine."

Strangely enough, he didn't feel too hurt. Yes, the impact had snapped something, but it wasn't mind-altering pain. He once read that 'a soul in a state of ecstasy has the power to transcend all finite limitations'. He couldn't remember where he read it, but it sounded nice. Maybe in Encarta 97. 

The guard looked at his boss, the car, then at his boss's arm. "Are you _sure_, sir?"

"Yes," he replied quite plainly. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go somewhere right now." and headed inside the lobby, straight into the elevators.

Meanwhile, the guard just stared and scratched his head.

* * *

In the elevator, he wondered what to do next. But ultimately, he opted to stop thinking about it.

And even while he dragged himself up, he would not think about it. And even while he walked across the main hall, he told himself he wouldn't think about it. And even though Fox mumbled, "What happened to you?" and he ducked from the gargoyles, he refused to admit to thinking about it.

But when Owen was the one to greet him in the office, he forced himself to think about it, and much to his annoyance, nothing occurred to him.

Nothing except: 

"_You_ are a _hateful little man_. If your intention was to make me go down on my knees, well, you've succeeded. You make me feel like I'm nothing when I'm everything. You're the first being to humiliate me. Laugh it up, 'cause it won't happen again."

He sighed.

"But for what's worth…" he continued, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry. For everything I did or stopped doing. I don't know if you'll forgive me, but still, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't do my best to find a cure. If I had done my best, I would've found it. But the least you can do is say something back, because I've said what I bet you wanted to hear. What about me? I've done a billion things for you. What about _me_?"

The other hadn't spoken a word or given any indication he gave a damn in the first place. Smiling just a little, he said, "What _about_ you?"

Xanatos thought for a moment he was mocking him or teasing him, because he said it so casually, so airy, that he thought that he had just wasted his breath on a ghost. But it was to be expected. 

But this time, ah! this time he was a sentimental fool because he _chose_ to be. And that made the whole difference in the world.

"What about you? What do you want me to say?" the other repeated. "David," he continued, in a perfectly affectionate and truly sincere tone, "I already gave you my vow before you even asked for it." And he said it so openly, it shocked the millionaire.

Next thing he knew, an all-too-familiar white-haired child was passing him a Kleenex box. "Now, now. The gargoyles could be watching. What will they think?"

Just seeing him standing there did not fit in his mortal brain. He blinked several times and mumbled, "It's _you_…!" He wanted to say a lot of things, but the only thing that came out was, "_Why_?"

Upon his recollection a few days later, Xanatos would realize the imp never answered. Instead, he would remember him shaking his head and replying, "For what it's worth," he said with a grin, "I say you kept your vow. I'm here, aren't I?"**_   
_**

FIN

Author's note on 2001: Well. Here it is. I hope you guys like it as the first and have a clearer idea about what happened. I don't like revisions, but I had a creativity demon lurking around and I just HAD to exorcise it.

Comments are always welcomed at [paganj@caribe.net][2] It would be nice if someone compared both versions and told me what they thought of each. It's the same thing, but written differently… I think. What the heck, judge for yourselves.

Another thing to think about… a person inspired the tittle of the fic to me by pointing out that there were always a full moon or just no moon in the 65 eps of Gargoyles. Has anyone seen a one-quart moon? Don't you think that's… odd? Just one of those things, my dears. Just one of those things.

(December 13, 1999)

(Revised: March 3, 2001)

   [1]: mailto:epagan@caribe.net
   [2]: mailto:paganj@caribe.net



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